Love-Letters Between a Nobleman and His Sister

by

Aphra Behn

The Argument

In the time of the rebellion of the true Protestant _Huguenot_ in_Paris_, under the conduct of the Prince of _Condé_ (whom we will call_Cesario_) many illustrious persons were drawn into the association, amongst which there was one, whose quality and fortune (joined withhis youth and beauty) rendered him more elevated in the esteem of thegay part of the world than most of that age. In his tender years(unhappily enough) he chanced to fall in love with a lady, whom wewill call _Myrtilla_, who had charms enough to engage any heart; shehad all the advantages of youth and nature; a shape excellent; a mostagreeable stature, not too tall, and far from low, delicatelyproportioned; her face a little inclined round, soft, smooth andwhite; her eyes were blue, a little languishing, and full of love andwit; a mouth curiously made, dimpled, and full of sweetness; lipsround, soft, plump and red; white teeth, firm and even; her nose alittle _Roman_, and which gave a noble grace to her lovely face, herhair light brown; a neck and bosom delicately turned, white andrising; her arms and hands exactly shaped; to this a vivacity of youthengaging; a wit quick and flowing; a humour gay, and an airirresistibly charming; and nothing was wanting to complete the joys ofthe young _Philander_, (so we call our amorous hero) but _Myrtilla_'sheart, which the illustrious _Cesario_ had before possessed; however, consulting her honour and her interest, and knowing all the arts aswomen do to feign a tenderness; she yields to marry him: while_Philander_, who scorned to owe his happiness to the commands ofparents, or to chaffer for a beauty, with her consent steals her away, and marries her. But see how transitory is a violent passion; afterbeing satiated, he slights the prize he had so dearly conquered; somesay, the change was occasioned by her too visibly continued love to_Cesario_; but whatever it was, this was most certain, _Philander_cast his eyes upon a young maid, sister to _Myrtilla_, a beauty, whoseearly bloom promised wonders when come to perfection; but I will spareher picture here, _Philander_ in the following epistles will oftenenough present it to your view: He loved and languished, long beforehe durst discover his pain; her being sister to his wife, nobly born, and of undoubted fame, rendered his passion too criminal to hope for areturn, while the young lovely _Sylvia_ (so we shall call the noblemaid) sighed out her hours in the same pain and languishment for_Philander_, and knew not that it was love, till she betraying itinnocently to the overjoyed lover and brother, he soon taught her tounderstand it was love--he pursues it, she permits it, and at lastyields, when being discovered in the criminal intrigue, she flies withhim; he absolutely quits _Myrtilla_, lives some time in a village near_Paris_, called St _Denis_, with this betrayed unfortunate, till beingfound out, and like to be apprehended, (one for the rape, the otherfor the flight) she is forced to marry a cadet, a creature of_Philander_'s, to bear the name of husband only to her, while_Philander_ had the entire possession of her soul and body: still the_League_ went forward, and all things were ready for a war in _Paris_;but it is not my business here to mix the rough relation of a war, with the soft affairs of love; let it suffice, the _Huguenots_ weredefeated, and the King got the day, and every rebel lay at the mercyof his sovereign. _Philander_ was taken prisoner, made his escape to alittle cottage near his own palace, not far from _Paris_, writes to_Sylvia_ to come to him, which she does, and in spite of all theindustry to re-seize him, he got away with _Sylvia_. 

After their flight these letters were found in their cabinets, attheir house at St _Denis_, where they both lived together, for thespace of a year; and they are as exactly as possible placed in theorder they were sent, and were those supposed to be written towardsthe latter end of their amours. 

Love-Letters

Part I. 

_To_ SYLVIA. 

Though I parted from you resolved to obey your impossible commands, yet know, oh charming _Sylvia_! that after a thousand conflictsbetween love and honour, I found the god (too mighty for the idol)reign absolute monarch in my soul, and soon banished that tyrantthence. That cruel counsellor that would suggest to you a thousandfond arguments to hinder my noble pursuit; _Sylvia_ came in view! herirresistible _Idea_! With all the charms of blooming youth, with allthe attractions of heavenly beauty! Loose, wanton, gay, all flowingher bright hair, and languishing her lovely eyes, her dress allnegligent as when I saw her last, discovering a thousand ravishinggraces, round, white, small breasts, delicate neck, and rising bosom, heaved with sighs she would in vain conceal; and all besides, thatnicest fancy can imagine surprising--Oh I dare not think on, lest mydesires grow mad and raving; let it suffice, oh adorable _Sylvia_! Ithink and know enough to justify that flame in me, which our weakalliance of brother and sister has rendered so criminal; but he thatadores _Sylvia_, should do it at an uncommon rate; 'tis not enough tosacrifice a single heart, to give you a simple passion, your beautyshould, like itself, produce wondrous effects; it should force allobligations, all laws, all ties even of nature's self: you, my lovelymaid, were not born to be obtained by the dull methods of ordinaryloving; and 'tis in vain to prescribe me measures; and oh much more invain to urge the nearness of our relation. What kin, my charming_Sylvia_, are you to me? No ties of blood forbid my passion; andwhat's a ceremony imposed on man by custom? What is it to my divine_Sylvia_, that the priest took my hand and gave it to your sister?What alliance can that create? Why should a trick devised by the waryold, only to make provision for posterity, tie me to an eternalslavery? No, no, my charming maid, 'tis nonsense all; let us, (bornfor mightier joys) scorn the dull _beaten road_, but let us love likethe first race of men, nearest allied to God, promiscuously theyloved, and possessed, father and daughter, brother and sister met, andreaped the joys of love without control, and counted it religiouscoupling, and 'twas encouraged too by heaven itself: therefore startnot (too nice and lovely maid) at shadows of things that can butfrighten fools. Put me not off with these delays; rather say you butdissembled love all this while, than now 'tis born, to die again witha poor fright of nonsense. A fit of honour! a phantom imaginary, andno more; no, no, represent me to your soul more favourably, think yousee me languishing at your feet, breathing out my last in sighs andkind reproaches, on the pitiless _Sylvia_; reflect when I am dead, which will be the more afflicting object, the ghost (as you arepleased to call it) of your murdered honour, or the pale and bleedingone of

_The lost_ PHILANDER. 

_I have lived a whole day, and yet no letter from_ Sylvia. 

 * * * * *

_To_ PHILANDER. 

OH why will you make me own (oh too importunate _Philander_!) withwhat regret I made you promise to prefer my honour before your love?

I confess with blushes, which you might then see kindling in my face, that I was not at all pleased with the vows you made me, to endeavourto obey me, and I then even wished you would obstinately have deniedobedience to my just commands; have pursued your criminal flame, andhave left me raving on my undoing: for when you were gone, and I hadleisure to look into my heart, alas! I found, whether you obliged ornot, whether love or honour were preferred, I, unhappy I, was eitherway inevitably lost. Oh! what pitiless god, fond of his wondrouspower, made us the objects of his almighty vanity? Oh why were we twomade the first precedents of his new found revenge? For sure nobrother ever loved a sister with so criminal a flame before: at leastmy inexperienced innocence never met with so fatal a story: and it isin vain (my too charming brother) to make me insensible of ouralliance; to persuade me I am a stranger to all but your eyes andsoul. 

Alas, your fatally kind industry is all in vain. You grew up a brotherwith me; the title was fixed in my heart, when I was too young tounderstand your subtle distinctions, and there it thrived and spread;and it is now too late to transplant it, or alter its native property:who can graft a flower on a contrary stalk? The rose will bear notulips, nor the hyacinth the poppy, no more will the brother the nameof lover. Oh! spoil not the natural sweetness and innocence we nowretain, by an endeavour fruitless and destructive; no, no, _Philander_, dress yourself in what charms you will, be powerful aslove can make you in your soft argument--yet, oh yet, you are mybrother still. --But why, oh cruel and eternal powers, was not_Philander_ my lover before you destined him a brother? Or why, beinga brother, did you, malicious and spiteful powers, destine him alover? Oh, take either title from him, or from me a life, which canrender me no satisfaction, since your cruel laws permit it not for_Philander_, nor his to bless the now

_Unfortunate_ SYLVIA. 

_Wednesday morning_. 

 * * * * *

_To_ PHILANDER. 

After I had dismissed my page this morning with my letter, I walked(filled with sad soft thoughts of my brother _Philander_) into thegrove, and commanding _Melinda_ to retire, who only attended me, Ithrew myself down on that bank of grass where we last disputed thedear, but fatal business of our souls: where our prints (that invitedme) still remain on the pressed greens: there with ten thousand sighs, with remembrance of the tender minutes we passed then, I drew yourlast letter from my bosom, and often kissed, and often read it over;but oh! who can conceive my torment, when I came to that fatal part ofit, where you say you gave your hand to my sister? I found my soulagitated with a thousand different passions, but all insupportable, all mad and raving; sometimes I threw myself with fury on the ground, and pressed my panting heart to the earth; then rise in rage, and tearmy heart, and hardly spare that face that taught you first to love;then fold my wretched arms to keep down rising sighs that almost rendmy breast, I traverse swiftly the conscious grove; with my distractedshow'ring eyes directed in vain to pitiless heaven, the lovely silentshade favouring my complaints, I cry aloud, Oh God! _Philander_'s, married, the lovely charming thing for whom I languish ismarried!--That fatal word's enough, I need not add to whom. Married isenough to make me curse my birth, my youth, my beauty, and my eyesthat first betrayed me to the undoing object: curse on the charms youhave flattered, for every fancied grace has helped my ruin on; now, like flowers that wither unseen and unpossessed in shades, they mustdie and be no more, they were to no end created, since _Philander_ ismarried: married! Oh fate, oh hell, oh torture and confusion! Tell menot it is to my sister, that addition is needless and vain: to make meeternally wretched, there needs no more than that _Philander_ ismarried! Than that the priest gave your hand away from me; to another, and not to me; tired out with life, I need no other pass-port thanthis repetition, _Philander_ is married! 'Tis that alone is sufficientto lay in her cold tomb

_The wretched and despairing Wednesday night, Bellfont. _ SYLVIA. 

 * * * * *

_To_ SYLVIA. 

Twice last night, oh unfaithful and unloving _Sylvia_! I sent the pageto the old place for letters, but he returned the object of my rage, because without the least remembrance from my fickle maid: in thistorment, unable to hide my disorder, I suffered myself to be laid inbed; where the restless torments of the night exceeded those of theday, and are not even by the languisher himself to be expressed; butthe returning light brought a short slumber on its wings; which wasinterrupted by my atoning boy, who brought two letters from myadorable _Sylvia_: he waked me from dreams more agreeable than all mywatchful hours could bring; for they are all tortured. ----And even thesoftest mixed with a thousand despairs, difficulties anddisappointments, but these were all love, which gave a loose to joysundenied by honour! And this way, my charming _Sylvia_, you shall bemine, in spite of all the tyrannies of that cruel hinderer; honourappears not, my _Sylvia_, within the close-drawn curtains; in shadesand gloomy light the phantom frights not, but when one beholds itsblushes, when it is attended and adorned, and the sun sees its falsebeauties; in silent groves and grottoes, dark alcoves, and lonelyrecesses, all its formalities are laid aside; it was then and theremethought my _Sylvia_ yielded, with a faint struggle and a softresistance; I heard her broken sighs, her tender whispering voice, that trembling cried, --'Oh! Can you be so cruel?--Have you theheart--Will you undo a maid, because she loves you? Oh! Will you ruinme, because you may?----My faithless----My unkind----' then sighed andyielded, and made me happier than a triumphing god! But this was stilla dream, I waked and sighed, and found it vanished all! But oh, my_Sylvia_, your letters were substantial pleasure, and pardon youradorer, if he tell you, even the disorder you express is infinitelydear to him, since he knows it all the effects of love; love, my soul!Which you in vain oppose; pursue it, dear, and call it not undoing, orelse explain your fear, and tell me what your soft, your tremblingheart gives that cruel title to? Is it undoing to love? And love theman you say has youth and beauty to justify that love? A man, thatadores you with so submissive and perfect a resignation; a man, thatdid not only love first, but is resolved to die in that agreeableflame; in my creation I was formed for love, and destined for my_Sylvia_, and she for her _Philander_: and shall we, can we disappointour fate? No, my soft charmer, our souls were touched with the sameshafts of love before they had a being in our bodies, and can wecontradict divine decree?

Or is it undoing, dear, to bless _Philander_ with what you must sometime or other sacrifice to some hated, loathed object, (for _Sylvia_can never love again;) and are those treasures for the dull conjugallover to rifle? Was the beauty of divine shape created for the coldmatrimonial embrace? And shall the eternal joys that _Sylvia_ candispense, be returned by the clumsy husband's careless, forced, insipid duties? Oh, my _Sylvia_, shall a husband (whose insensibilitywill call those raptures of joy! Those heavenly blisses! The drudgeryof life) shall he I say receive them? While your _Philander_, with thevery thought of the excess of pleasure the least possession wouldafford, faints over the paper that brings here his eternal vows. 

Oh! Where, my _Sylvia_, lies the undoing then? My quality and fortuneare of the highest rank amongst men, my youth gay and fond, my soulall soft, all love; and all _Sylvia_'s! I adore her, I am sick oflove, and sick of life, till she yields, till she is all mine!

You say, my _Sylvia_, I am married, and there my happiness isshipwrecked; but _Sylvia_, I deny it, and will not have you think it:no, my soul was married to yours in its first creation; and only_Sylvia_ is the wife of my sacred, my everlasting vows; of my solemnconsiderate thoughts, of my ripened judgement, my matureconsiderations. The rest are all repented and forgot, like the hastyfollies of unsteady youth, like vows breathed in anger, and dieperjured as soon as vented, and unregarded either of heaven or man. Oh! why should my soul suffer for ever, why eternal pain for theunheedy, short-lived sin of my unwilling lips? Besides, this fatalthing called wife, this unlucky sister, this _Myrtilla_, this stop toall my heaven, that breeds such fatal differences in our affairs, this_Myrtilla_, I say, first broke her marriage-vows to me; I blame hernot, nor is it reasonable I should; she saw the young _Cesario_, andloved him. _Cesario_, whom the envying world in spite of prejudicemust own, has irresistible charms, that godlike form, that sweetnessin his face, that softness in his eyes and delicate mouth; and everybeauty besides, that women dote on, and men envy: that lovelycomposition of man and angel! with the addition of his eternal youthand illustrious birth, was formed by heaven and nature for universalconquest! And who can love the charming hero at a cheaper rate thanbeing undone? And she that would not venture fame, honour, and amarriage-vow for the glory of the young _Cesario_'s heart, merits notthe noble victim; oh! would I could say so much for the young_Philander_, who would run a thousand times more hazards of life andfortune for the adorable _Sylvia_, than that amorous hero ever did for_Myrtilla_, though from that prince I learned some of my disguises formy thefts of love; for he, like _Jove_, courted in several shapes; Isaw them all, and suffered the delusion to pass upon me; for I hadseen the lovely _Sylvia_; yes, I had seen her, and loved her too: buthonour kept me yet master of my vows; but when I knew her false, whenI was once confirmed, --when by my own soul I found the dissembledpassion of hers, when she could no longer hide the blushes, or thepaleness that seized at the approaches of my disordered rival, when Isaw love dancing in her eyes, and her false heart beat with nimblemotions, and soft trembling seized every limb, at the approach ortouch of the royal lover, then I thought myself no longer obliged toconceal my flame for _Sylvia_; nay, ere I broke silence, ere Idiscovered the hidden treasure of my heart, I made her falsehoodplainer yet: even the time and place of the dear assignations Idiscovered; certainty, happy certainty! broke the dull heavy chain, and I with joy submitted to my shameful freedom, and caressed mygenerous rival; nay, and by heaven I loved him for it, pleased at theresemblance of our souls; for we were secret lovers both, but morepleased that he loved _Myrtilla_; for that made way to my passion forthe adorable _Sylvia_!

Let the dull, hot-brained, jealous fool upbraid me with cold patience:let the fond coxcomb, whose honour depends on the frail marriage-vow, reproach me, or tell me that my reputation depends on the feebleconstancy of a wife, persuade me it is honour to fight for anirretrievable and unvalued prize, and that because my rival has takenleave to cuckold me, I shall give him leave to kill me too;unreasonable nonsense grown to custom. No, by heaven! I had gather_Myrtilla_ should be false, (as she is) than wish and languish for thehappy occasion; the sin is the same, only the act is more generous:believe me, my _Sylvia_, we have all false notions of virtue andhonour, and surely this was taken up by some despairing husband inlove with a fair jilting wife, and then I pardon him; I should havedone as much: for only she that has my soul can engage my sword; shethat I love, and myself, only commands and keeps my stock of honour:for _Sylvia_! the charming, the distracting _Sylvia_! I could fightfor a glance or smile, expose my heart for her dearer fame, and wishno recompense, but breathing out my last gasp into her soft, white, delicate bosom. But for a wife! that stranger to my soul, and whom wewed for interest and necessity, --a wife, light, loose, unregardingproperty, who for a momentary appetite will expose her fame, withoutthe noble end of loving on; she that will abuse my bed, and yet returnagain to the loathed conjugal embrace, back to the arms so hated, andeven strong fancy of the absent youth beloved, cannot so much asrender supportable. Curse on her, and yet she kisses, fawns anddissembles on, hangs on his neck, and makes the sot believe:--damnher, brute; I'll whistle her off, and let her down the wind, as_Othello_ says. No, I adore the wife, that, when the heart is gone, boldy and nobly pursues the conqueror, and generously owns thewhore;--not poorly adds the nauseous sin of jilting to it: that Icould have borne, at least commended; but this can never pardon; atworst then the world had said her passion had undone her, she loved, and love at worst is worthy of pity. No, no, _Myrtilla_, I forgiveyour love, but never can your poor dissimulation. One drives you butfrom the heart you value not, but the other to my eternal contempt. One deprives me but of thee, _Myrtilla_, but the other entitles me toa beauty more surprising, renders thee no part of me; and so leavesthe lover free to _Sylvia_, without the brother. 

Thus, my excellent maid, I have sent you the sense and truth of mysoul, in an affair you have often hinted to me, and I take no pleasureto remember: I hope you will at least think my aversion reasonable;and that being thus indisputably free from all obligations to_Myrtilla_ as a husband, I may be permitted to lay claim to _Sylvia_, as a lover, and marry myself more effectually by my everlasting vows, than the priest by his common method could do to any other woman lessbeloved; there being no other way at present left by heaven, to renderme _Sylvia_'s. 

_Eternal happy lover and I die to see you_. 

PHILANDER. 

 * * * * *

_To_ SYLVIA. 

When I had sealed the enclosed, _Brilliard_ told me you were thismorning come from _Bellfont_, and with infinite impatience haveexpected seeing you here; which deferred my sending this to the oldplace; and I am so vain (oh adorable _Sylvia_) as to believe myfancied silence has given you disquiets; but sure, my _Sylvia_ couldnot charge me with neglect; no, she knows my soul, and lays it all onchance, or some strange accident, she knows no business could divertme. No, were the nation sinking, the great senate of the worldconfounded, our glorious designs betrayed and ruined, and the vastcity all in flames; like _Nero_, unconcerned, I would sing myeverlasting song of love to _Sylvia_; which no time or fortune shalluntune. I know my soul, and all its strength, and how it is fortified, the charming _Idea_ of my young _Sylvia_ will for ever remain there;the original may fade; time may render it less fair, less blooming inmy arms, but never in my soul; I shall find thee there the same gayglorious creature that first surprised and enslaved me, believe meravishing maid, I shall. Why then, oh why, my cruel _Sylvia_ are myjoys delayed? Why am I by your rigorous commands kept from the sightof my heaven, my eternal bliss? An age, my fair tormentor, is past;four tedious live-long days are numbered over, since I beheld theobject of my lasting vows, my eternal wishes; how can you think, ohunreasonable _Sylvia_! that I could live so long without you? And yetI am alive; I find it by my pain, by torments of fears and jealousiesinsupportable; I languish and go downward to the earth; where you willshortly see me laid without your recalling mercy. It is true, I moveabout this unregarded world, appear every day in the greatsenate-house, at clubs, cabals, and private consultations; (for_Sylvia_ knows all the business of my soul, even in politics of Stateas well as love) I say I appear indeed, and give my voice in publicbusiness; but oh my heart more kindly is employed; that and mythoughts are _Sylvia_'s! Ten thousand times a day I breathe that name, my busy fingers are eternally tracing out those six mystic letters; athousand ways on every thing I touch, form words, and make them speaka thousand things, and all are _Sylvia_ still; my melancholy change isevident to all that see me, which they interpret many mistaken ways;our party fancy I repent my league with them, and doubting I'll betraythe cause, grow jealous of me, till by new oaths, new arguments, Iconfirm them; then they smile all, and cry I am in love; and this theywould believe, but that they see all women that I meet or conversewith are indifferent to me, and so can fix it no where; for none canguess it _Sylvia_; thus while I dare not tell my soul, no not even to_Cesario_, the stifled flame burns inward, and torments me so, that(unlike the thing I was) I fear _Sylvia_ will lose her love, and lovertoo; for those few charms she said I had, will fade, and this fataldistance will destroy both soul and body too; my very reason willabandon me, and I shall rave to see thee; restore me, oh restore methen to _Bellfont_, happy _Bellfont_, still blest with _Sylvia_'spresence! permit me, oh permit me into those sacred shades, where Ihave been so often (too innocently) blest! Let me survey again thedear character of _Sylvia_ on the smooth birch; oh when shall I sitbeneath those boughs, gazing on the young goddess of the grove, hearing her sigh for love, touching her glowing small white hands, beholding her killing eyes languish, and her charming bosom rise andfall with short-breath'd uncertain breath; breath as soft and sweet asthe restoring breeze that glides o'er the new-blown flowers: But ohwhat is it? What heaven of perfumes, when it inclines to the ravish'd_Philander_, and whispers love it dares not name aloud?

What power with-holds me then from rushing on thee, from pressing theewith kisses; folding thee in my transported arms, and following allthe dictates of love without respect or awe! What is it, oh my_Sylvia_, can detain a love so violent and raving, and so wild; admitme, sacred maid, admit me again to those soft delights, that I mayfind, if possible, what divinity (envious of my bliss) checks my eagerjoys, my raging flame; while you too make an experiment (worth thetrial) what 'tis makes _Sylvia_ deny her

_Impatient adorer_, PHILANDER. 

_My page is ill, and I am oblig'd to trust_ Brilliard _with these tothe dear cottage of their rendezvous; send me your opinion of hisfidelity: and ah! remember I die to see you_. 

_To_ PHILANDER. 

Not yet?--not yet? oh ye dull tedious hours, when will you glide away?and bring that happy moment on, in which I shall at least hear from my_Philander_; eight and forty tedious ones are past, and I am hereforgotten still; forlorn, impatient, restless every where; not one ofall your little moments (ye undiverting hours) can afford me repose; Idrag ye on, a heavy load; I count ye all, and bless ye when you aregone; but tremble at the approaching ones, and with a dread expectyou; and nothing will divert me now; my couch is tiresome, my glass isvain; my books are dull, and conversation insupportable; the groveaffords me no relief; nor even those birds to whom I have so oftenbreath'd _Philander_'s, name, they sing it on their perching boughs;no, nor the reviewing of his dear letters, can bring me any ease. Ohwhat fate is reserved for me! For thus I cannot live; nor surely thusI shall not die. Perhaps _Philander_'s making a trial of virtue bythis silence. Pursue it, call up all your reason, my lovely brother, to your aid, let us be wise and silent, let us try what that will dotowards the cure of this too infectious flame; let us, oh let us, mybrother, sit down here, and pursue the crime of loving on no farther. Call me sister--swear I am so, and nothing but your sister: andforbear, oh forbear, my charming brother, to pursue me farther withyour soft bewitching passion; let me alone, let me be ruin'd withhonour, if I must be ruin'd. --For oh! 'twere much happier I were nomore, than that I should be more than _Philander_'s sister; or he than_Sylvia_'s brother: oh let me ever call you by that cold name, 'tillthat of lover be forgotten:--ha!--Methinks on the sudden, a fit ofvirtue informs my soul, and bids me ask you for what sin of mine, mycharming brother, you still pursue a maid that cannot fly: ungenerousand unkind! Why did you take advantage of those freedoms I gave you asa brother? I smil'd on you; and sometimes kiss'd you too;--but for mysister's sake, I play'd with you, suffer'd your hands and lips towander where I dare not now; all which I thought a sister might allowa brother, and knew not all the while the treachery of love: oh none, but under that intimate title of a brother, could have had theopportunity to have ruin'd me; that, that betray'd me; I play'd awaymy heart at a game I did not understand; nor knew I when 'twas lost, by degrees so subtle, and an authority so lawful, you won me out ofall. Nay then too, even when all was lost, I would not think it love. I wonder'd what my sleepless nights, my waking eternal thoughts, andslumbering visions of my lovely brother meant: I wonder'd why my soulwas continually fill'd with wishes and new desires; and stillconcluded 'twas for my sister all, 'till I discover'd the cheat byjealousy; for when my sister hung upon your neck, kiss'd, and caress'dthat face that I ador'd, oh how I found my colour change, my limbs alltrembled, and my blood enrag'd, and I could scarce forbear reproachingyou; or crying out, 'Oh why this fondness, brother? Sometimes youperceiv'd my concern, at which you'd smile; for you who had beenbefore in love, (a curse upon the fatal time) could guess at mydisorder; then would you turn the wanton play on me: when sullen withmy jealousy and the cause, I fly your soft embrace, yet wish you wouldpursue and overtake me, which you ne'er fail'd to do, where after akind quarrel all was pardon'd, and all was well again: while the poorinjur'd innocent, my sister, made herself sport at our delusive wars;still I was ignorant, 'till you in a most fatal hour inform'd me I wasa lover. Thus was it with my heart in those blest days of innocence;thus it was won and lost; nor can all my stars in heav'n prevent, Idoubt, prevent my ruin. Now you are sure of the fatal conquest, youscorn the trifling glory, you are silent now; oh I am inevitably lost, or with you, or without you: and I find by this little silence andabsence of yours, that 'tis most certain I must either die, or be_Philander_'s

SYLVIA. 

_If_ Dorillus _come not with a letter, or that my page, whom I havesent to this cottage for one, bring it not, I cannot support my life:for oh_, Philander, _I have a thousand wild distracting fears, knowinghow you are involv'd in the interest you have espoused with the young_Cesario: _how danger surrounds you, how your life and glory depend onthe frail sacrifice of villains and rebels: oh give me leave to feareternally your fame and life, if not your love; If_ Sylvia _couldcommand_, Philander _should be loyal as he's noble; and what generousmaid would not suspect his vows to a mistress, who breaks 'em with hisprince and master! Heaven preserve you and your glory_. 

 * * * * *

_To_ Philander. 

Another night, oh heavens, and yet no letter come! Where are you, my_Philander_? What happy place contains you? If in heaven, why does notsome posting angel bid me haste after you? If on earth, why does notsome little god of love bring the grateful tidings on his paintedwings? If sick, why does not my own fond heart by sympathy inform me?But that is all active, vigorous, wishing, impatient of delaying, silent, and busy in imagination. If you are false, if you haveforgotten your poor believing and distracted _Sylvia_, why does notthat kind tyrant death, that meagre welcome vision of the despairing, old and wretched, approach in dead of night, approach my restless bed, and toll the dismal tidings in my frighted listening ears, and strikeme for ever silent, lay me for ever quiet, lost to the world, lost tomy faithless charmer! But if a sense of honour in you has made youresolve to prefer mine before your love, made you take up a noblefatal resolution, never to tell me more of your passion; this were atrial, I fear my fond heart wants courage to bear; or is it a trick, acold fit, only assum'd to try how much I love you? I have no arts, heaven knows, no guile or double meaning in my soul, 'tis all plainnative simplicity, fearful and timorous as children in the night, trembling as doves pursu'd; born soft by nature, and made tender bylove; what, oh! what will become of me then? Yet would I wereconfirm'd in all my fears: for as I am, my condition is moredeplorable; for I'm in doubt, and doubt is the worst torment of themind: oh _Philander_, be merciful, and let me know the worst; do notbe cruel while you kill, do it with pity to the wretched _Sylvia_; ohlet me quickly know whether you are at all, or are the most impatientand unfortunate

SYLVIA's. 

_I rave, I die for some relief. _

 * * * * *

_To_ PHILANDER. 

As I was going to send away this enclos'd, _Dorillus_ came with twoletters; oh, you cannot think, _Philander_, with how much reason youcall me fickle maid; for could you but imagine how I am tormentinglydivided, how unresolved between violent love and cruel honour, youwould say 'twere impossible to fix me any where; or be the same thingfor a moment together: there is not a short hour pass'd through theswift hand of time, since I was all despairing, raging love, jealous, fearful, and impatient; and now, now that your fond letters havedispers'd those demons, those tormenting counsellors, and given alittle respite, a little tranquillity to my soul; like statesluxurious grown with ease, it ungratefully rebels against thesovereign power that made it great and happy; and now that traitorhonour heads the mutineers within; honour, whom my late mighty fearshad almost famish'd and brought to nothing, warm'd and reviv'd by thynew-protested flames, makes war against almighty love! and I, who butnow nobly resolv'd for love, by an inconstancy natural to my sex, orrather my fears, am turn'd over to honour's side: so the despairingman stands on the river's bank, design'd to plunge into the rapidstream, 'till coward-fear seizing his timorous soul, he views aroundonce more the flowery plains, and looks with wishing eyes back to thegroves, then sighing stops, and cries, I was too rash, forsakes thedangerous shore, and hastes away. Thus indiscreet was I, was all forlove, fond and undoing love! But when I saw it with full tide flow inupon me, one glance of glorious honour makes me again retreat. Iwill----I am resolv'd----and must be brave! I cannot forget I amdaughter to the great _Beralti_, and sister to _Myrtilla_, a yetunspotted maid, fit to produce a race of glorious heroes! And can_Philander_'s love set no higher value on me than base poorprostitution? Is that the price of his heart?--Oh how I hate thee now!or would to heaven I could. --Tell me not, thou charming beguiler, that_Myrtilla_ was to blame; was it a fault in her, and will it be virtuein me? And can I believe the crime that made her lose your heart, willmake me mistress of it? No, if by any action of hers the noble houseof the _Beralti_ be dishonour'd, by all the actions of my life itshall receive additions and lustre and glory! Nor will I think_Myrtilla_'s virtue lessen'd for your mistaken opinion of it, and shemay be as much in vain pursu'd, perhaps, by the Prince _Cesario_, as_Sylvia_ shall be by the young _Philander_: the envying world talksloud, 'tis true; but oh, if all were true that busy babbler says, whatlady has her fame? What husband is not a cuckold? Nay, and a friend tohim that made him so? And it is in vain, my too subtle brother, youthink to build the trophies of your conquests on the ruin of both_Myrtilla_'s fame and mine: oh how dear would your inglorious passioncost the great unfortunate house of the _Beralti_, while you poorlyruin the fame of _Myrtilla_, to make way to the heart of _Sylvia_!Remember, oh remember once your passion was as violent for _Myrtilla_, and all the vows, oaths, protestations, tears and prayers you make andpay at my feet, are but the faint repetitions, the feeble echoes ofwhat you sigh'd out at hers. Nay, like young _Paris_ fled with thefair prize, your fond, your eager passion made it a rape. Ohperfidious!--Let me not call it back to my remembrance. --Oh let medie, rather than call to mind a time so fatal; when the lovely false_Philander_ vow'd his heart, his faithless heart away to any maid but_Sylvia_:--oh let it not be possible for me to imagine his dear armsever grasping any body with joy but _Sylvia_! And yet they did, withtransports of love! Yes, yes, you lov'd! by heaven you lov'd thisfalse, this perfidious _Myrtilla_; for false she is; you lov'd her, and I'll have it so; nor shall the sister in me plead her cause. Sheis false beyond all pardon; for you are beautiful as heaven itself canrender you, a shape exactly form'd, not too low, nor too tall, butmade to beget soft desire and everlasting wishes in all that look onyou; but your face! your lovely face, inclining to round, largepiercing languishing black eyes, delicate proportion'd nose, charmingdimpled mouth, plump red lips, inviting and swelling, white teeth, small and even, fine complexion, and a beautiful turn! All which youhad an art to order in so engaging a manner, that it charm'd all thebeholders, both sexes were undone with looking on you; and I haveheard a witty man of your party swear, your face gain'd more to theLeague and association than the cause, and has curs'd a thousand timesthe false _Myrtilla_, for preferring _Cesario_! (less beautiful) tothe adorable _Philander_; to add to this, heaven! how you spoke, whenere you spoke of love! in that you far surpass'd the young _Cesario_!as young as he, almost as great and glorious; oh perfidious_Myrtilla_, oh false, oh foolish and ingrate!--That you abandon'd herwas just, she was not worth retaining in your heart, nor could beworth defending with your sword:--but grant her false; oh_Philander_!--How does her perfidy entitle you to me? False as sheis, you still are married to her; inconstant as she is, she is stillyour wife; and no breach of the nuptial vow can untie the fatal knot;and that is a mystery to common sense: sure she was born for mischief;and fortune, when she gave her you, designed the ruin of us all; butmost particularly _The unfortunate_ Sylvia. 

 * * * * *

_To_ Sylvia. 

My soul's eternal joy, my _Sylvia_! what have you done, and oh howdurst you, knowing my fond heart, try it with so fatal a stroke? Whatmeans this severe letter? and why so eagerly at this time? Oh the day!Is _Myrtilla's_ virtue so defended? Is it a question now whether sheis false or not? Oh poor, oh frivolous excuse! You love me not; by allthat's good, you love me not; to try your power you have flatter'd andfeign'd, oh woman! false charming woman! you have undone me, I raveand shall commit such extravagance that will ruin both: I must upbraidyou, fickle and inconstant, I must, and this distance will not serve, 'tis too great; my reproaches lose their force; I burst withresentment, with injur'd love; and you are either the most faithlessof your sex, or the most malicious and tormenting: oh I am pasttricks, my _Sylvia_, your little arts might do well in a beginningflame, but to a settled fire that is arriv'd to the highest degree, itdoes but damp its fierceness, and instead of drawing me on, wouldlessen my esteem, if any such deceit were capable to harbour in theheart of _Sylvia_; but she is all divine, and I am mistaken in themeaning of what she says. Oh my adorable, think no more on that dullfalse thing a wife; let her be banish'd thy thoughts, as she is mysoul; let her never appear, though but in a dream, to fright our solidjoys, or true happiness; no, let us look forward to pleasures vast andunconfin'd, to coming transports, and leave all behind us thatcontributes not to that heaven of bliss: remember, oh _Sylvia_, thatfive tedious days are past since I sigh'd at your dear feet; and fivedays, to a man so madly in love as your _Philander_, is a tedious age:'tis now six o'clock in the morning, _Brilliard_ will be with you byeight, and by ten I may have your permission to see you, and then Ineed not say how soon I will present myself before you at _Bellfont_;for heaven's sake, my eternal blessing, if you design me thishappiness, contrive it so, that I may see no body that belongs to_Bellfont_, but the fair, the lovely _Sylvia_; for I must be moremoments with you, than will be convenient to be taken notice of, lestthey suspect our business to be love, and that discovery yet may ruinus. Oh! I will delay no longer, my soul is impatient to see you, Icannot live another night without it; I die, by heaven, I languish forthe appointed hour; you will believe, when you see my languid face, and dying eyes, how much and greater a sufferer in love I am. 

My soul's delight, you may perhaps deny me from your fear; but oh, donot, though I ask a mighty blessing; _Sylvia_'s company alone, silent, and perhaps by dark:--oh, though I faint with the thought only of sobless'd an opportunity, yet you shall secure me, by what vows, whatimprecations or ties you please; bind my busy hands, blind my ravish'deyes, command my tongue, do what you will; but let me hear yourangel's voice, and have the transported joy of throwing my self atyour feet; and if you please, give me leave (a man condemned eternallyto love) to plead a little for my life and passion; let me remove yourfears; and though that mighty task never make me entirely happy, atleast it will be a great satisfaction to me to know, that 'tis notthrough my own fault that I am the

_Most wretched_

PHILANDER. 

_I have order'd_ Brilliard _to wait your commands at_ Dorillus_'scottage, that he may not be seen at_ Bellfont: _resolve to see meto-night, or I shall come without order, and injure both: my dear, damn'd wife is dispos'd of at a ball_ Cesario _makes to-night; theopportunity will be lucky, not that I fear her jealousy, but theeffects of it. _

 * * * * *

_To_ PHILANDER. 

I tremble with the apprehension of what you ask: how shall I complywith your fond desires? My soul bodes some dire effect of this boldenterprise, for I must own (and blush while I do own it) that my soulyields obedience to your soft request, and even whilst I read yourletter, was diverted with the contrivance of seeing you: for though, as my brother, you have all the freedoms imaginable at _Bellfont_, toentertain and walk with me, yet it would be difficult and prejudicialto my honour, to receive you alone any where without my sister, andcause a suspicion, which all about me now are very far fromconceiving, except _Melinda_, my faithful confidante, and too fatalcounsellor; and but for this fear, I know, my charming brother, threelittle leagues should not five long days separate _Philander_ from his_Sylvia_: but, my lovely brother, since you beg it so earnestly, andmy heart consents so easily, I must pronounce my own doom, and say, come, my _Philander_, whether love or soft desire invites you; andtake this direction in the management of this mighty affair. I wouldhave you, as soon as this comes to your hands, to haste to_Dorillus_'s cottage, without your equipage, only _Brilliard_, whom Ibelieve you may trust, both from his own discretion, and your vastbounties to him; wait there 'till you receive my commands, and I willretire betimes to my apartment, pretending not to be well; and as soonas the evening's obscurity will permit, _Melinda_ shall let you in atthe _garden-gate_, that is next the _grove_, unseen and unsuspected;but oh, thou powerful charmer, have a care, I trust you with my all:my dear, dear, my precious honour, guard it well; for oh I fear myforces are too weak to stand your shock of beauties; you have charmsenough to justify my yielding; but yet, by heaven I would not for anempire: but what is dull empire to almighty love? The god subdues themonarch; 'tis to your strength I trust, for I am a feeble woman, avirgin quite disarm'd by two fair eyes, an angel's voice and form; butyet I'll die before I'll yield my honour; no, though our unhappyfamily have met reproach from the imagined levity of my sister, 'tisI'll redeem the bleeding honour of our family, and my great parents'virtues shall shine in me; I know it, for if it passes this test, if Ican stand this temptation, I am proof against all the world; but Iconjure you aid me if I need it: if I incline but in a languishinglook, if but a wish appear in my eyes, or I betray consent but in asigh; take not, oh take not the opportunity, lest when you have done Igrow raging mad, and discover all in the wild fit. Oh who wouldventure on an enemy with such unequal force? What hardy fool wouldhazard all at sea, that sees the rising storm come rolling on? Who butfond woman, giddy heedless woman, would thus expose her virtue totemptation? I see, I know my danger, yet I must permit it: love, softbewitching love will have it so, that cannot deny what my feeblerhonour forbids; and though I tremble with fear, yet love suggests, itwill be an age to night: I long for my undoing; for oh I cannot standthe batteries of your eyes and tongue; these fears, these conflicts Ihave a thousand times a-day; it is pitiful sometimes to see me; on onehand a thousand _Cupids_ all gay and smiling present _Philander_ withall the beauties of his sex, with all the softness in his looks andlanguage those gods of love can inspire, with all the charms of youthadorn'd, bewitching all, and all transporting; on the other hand, apoor lost virgin languishing and undone, sighing her willing rape tothe deaf shades and fountains, filling the woods with cries, swellingthe murmuring rivulets with tears, her noble parents with a generousrage reviling her, and her betray'd sister loading her bow'd head withcurses and reproaches, and all about her looking forlorn and sad. Judge, oh judge, my adorable brother, of the vastness of my courageand passion, when even this deplorable prospect cannot defend me fromthe resolution of giving you admittance into my apartment this night, nor shall ever drive you from the soul of your

SYLVIA. 

 * * * * *

_To_ SYLVIA. 

I have obey'd my _Sylvia_'s dear commands, and the dictates of my ownimpatient soul; as soon as I receiv'd them, I immediately took horsefor _Bellfont_, though I knew I should not see my adorable _Sylvia_'till eight or nine at night; but oh 'tis wondrous pleasure to be somuch more near my eternal joy; I wait at _Dorillus_'s cottage thetedious approaching night that must shelter me in its kind shades, andconduct me to a pleasure I faint but with imagining; 'tis now, mylovely charmer, three o'clock, and oh how many tedious hours I am tolanguish here before the blessed one arrive! I know you love, my_Sylvia_, and therefore must guess at some part of my torment, whichyet is mix'd with a certain trembling joy, not to be imagin'd by anybut _Sylvia_, who surely loves _Philander_; if there be truth inbeauty, faith in youth, she surely loves him much; and much more aboveher sex she is capable of love, by how much more her soul is form'd ofa softer and more delicate composition; by how much more her wit'srefin'd and elevated above her duller sex, and by how much more she isoblig'd; if passion can claim passion in return, sure no beauty wasever so much indebted to a slave, as _Sylvia_ to _Philander_; noneever lov'd like me: judge then my pains of love, my joys, my fears, myimpatience and desires; and call me to your sacred presence with allthe speed of love, and as soon as it is duskish, imagine me in themeadow behind the grove, 'till when think me employed in eternalthoughts of _Sylvia_, restless, and talking to the trees of _Sylvia_, sighing her charming name, circling with folded arms my panting heart, (that beats and trembles the more, the nearer it approaches the happy_Bellfont_) and fortifying the feeble trembler against a sight soravishing and surprising; I fear to be sustain'd with life; but if Ifaint in _Sylvia_'s arms, it will be happier far than all the gloriesof life without her. 

Send, my angel, something from you to make the hours less tedious:consider me, love me, and be as impatient as I, that you may thesooner find at your feet your everlasting lover, PHILANDER. 

_From _Dorillus_'s cottage. _

 * * * * *

_To_ PHILANDER. 

I have at last recover'd sense enough to tell you, I have receiv'dyour letter by _Dorillus_, and which had like to have been discover'd;for he prudently enough put it under the strawberries he brought me ina basket, fearing he should get no other opportunity to have given itme; and my mother seeing them look so fair and fresh, snatch'd thebasket with a greediness I have not seen in her before; whilst she wascalling to her page for a porcelain dish to put them out, _Dorillus_had an opportunity to hint to me what lay at the bottom: heavens! hadyou seen my disorder and confusion; what should I do? Love had not oneinvention in store, and here it was that all the subtlety of womenabandon'd me. Oh heavens, how cold and pale I grew, lest the mostimportant business of my life should be betray'd and ruin'd! but notto terrify you longer with fears of my danger, the dish came, and outthe strawberries were pour'd, and the basket thrown aside on the bankwhere my mother sat, (for we were in the garden when we metaccidentally _Dorillus_ first with the basket) there were some leavesof fern put at the bottom between the basket and letter, which by goodfortune came not out with the strawberries, and after a minute or twoI took up the basket, and walking carelessly up and down the garden, gather'd here and there a flower, pinks and jessamine, and filling mybasket, sat down again 'till my mother had eat her fill of the fruit, and gave me an opportunity to retire to my apartment, where openingthe letter, and finding you so near, and waiting to see me, I hadcertainly sunk down on the floor, had not _Melinda_ supported me, whoonly was by; something so new, and 'till now so strange, seiz'd me atthe thought of so secret an interview, that I lost all my senses, andlife wholly departing, I rested on _Melinda_ without breath or motion;the violent effects of love and honour, the impetuous meeting tides ofthe extremes of joy and fear, rushing on too suddenly, overwhelm'd mysenses; and it was a pretty while before I recover'd strength to getto my cabinet, where a second time I open'd your letter, and read itagain with a thousand changes of countenance, my whole mass of bloodwas in that moment so discompos'd, that I chang'd from an ague to afever several times in a minute: oh what will all this bring me to?And where will the raging fit end? I die with that thought, my guiltypen slackens in my trembling hand, and I languish and fall over theun-employ'd paper;----oh help me, some divinity, ----or if you did, --Ifear I should be angry: oh _Philander_! a thousand passions anddistracted thoughts crowd to get out, and make their soft complaintsto thee; but oh they lose themselves with mixing; they are blended ina confusion together, and love nor art can divide them, to deal themout in order; sometimes I would tell you of my joy at your arrival, and my unspeaking transports at the thought of seeing you so soon, that I shall hear your charming voice, and find you at my feet makingsoft vows anew, with all the passion of an impatient lover, with allthe eloquence that sighs and cries, and tears from those lovely eyescan express; and sure that is enough to conquer any where, and towhich coarse vulgar words are dull. The rhetoric of love ishalf-breath'd, interrupted words, languishing eyes, flatteringspeeches, broken sighs, pressing the hand, and falling tears: ah howdo they not persuade, how do they not charm and conquer; 'twas thus, with these soft easy arts, that _Sylvia_ first was won; for sure noarts of speaking could have talked my heart away, though you can speaklike any god: oh whither am I driven? What do I say? 'Twas not mypurpose, not my business here, to give a character of _Philander_, nonor to speak of love; but oh! like _Cowley_'s lute, my soul will soundto nothing but to love: talk what you will, begin what discourse youplease, I end it all in love, because my soul is ever fix'd on_Philander_, and insensibly its biass leads to that subject; no, I didnot when I began to write, think of speaking one word of my ownweakness; but to have told you with what resolv'd courage, honour andvirtue, I expect your coming; and sure so sacred a thing as love wasnot made to ruin these, and therefore in vain, my lovely brother, youwill attempt it; and yet, oh heavens! I gave a private assignation, inmy apartment, alone and at night; where silence, love and shades, areall your friends, where opportunity obliges your passion, while, heaven knows, not one of all these, nor any kind of power, is friendto me; I shall be left to you and all these tyrants expos'd, withoutother guards than this boasted virtue; which had need be wondrous toresist all these powerful enemies of its purity and repose. Alas Iknow not its strength, I never tried it yet; and this will be thefirst time it has ever been expos'd to your power; the first time Iever had courage to meet you as a lover, and let you in by stealth, and put myself unguarded into your hands: oh I die with theapprehension of approaching danger! and yet I have not power toretreat; I must on, love compels me, love holds me fast; the smilingflatterer promises a thousand joys, a thousand ravishing minutes ofdelight; all innocent and harmless as his mother's doves; but oh theybill and kiss, and do a thousand things I must forbid _Philander_; forI have often heard him say with sighs, that his complexion render'dhim less capable of the soft play of love, than any other lover: Ihave seen him fly my very touches, yet swear they were the greatestjoy on earth; I tempt him even with my looks from virtue: and when Iask the cause, or cry he is cold, he vows 'tis because he dares notendure my temptations; says his blood runs hotter and fiercer in hisveins than any other's does; nor have the oft repeated joys reaped inthe marriage bed, any thing abated that which he wish'd, but he fear'dwould ruin me: thus, thus whole days we have sat and gaz'd, andsigh'd; but durst not trust our virtues with fond dalliance. 

My page is come to tell me that Madam the Duchess of ---- is come to_Bellfont_, and I am oblig'd to quit my cabinet, but with infiniteregret, being at present much more to my soul's content employ'd; butlove must sometimes give place to _devoir_ and respect. _Dorillus_ toowaits, and tells _Melinda_ he will not depart without something forhis lord, to entertain him till the happy hour. The rustic pleas'd mewith the concern he had for my _Philander_; oh my charming brother, you have an art to tame even savages, a tongue that would charm andengage wildness itself, to softness and gentleness, and give the roughunthinking, love; 'tis a tedious time to-night, how shall I pass thehours?

 * * * * *

_To_ SYLVIA. 

Say, fond love, whither wilt thou lead me? Thou hast brought me fromthe noisy hurries of the town, to charming solitude; from crowdedcabals, where mighty things are resolving, to lonely groves; to thyown abodes where thou dwell'st; gay and pleas'd among the rural swainsin shady homely cottages; thou hast brought me to a grove of flowers, to the brink of purling streams, where thou hast laid me down tocontemplate on _Sylvia_, to think my tedious hours away in the softestimagination a soul inspir'd by love can conceive, to increase mypassion by every thing I behold; for every sound that meets the senseis thy proper music, oh love, and every thing inspires thy dictates;the winds around me blow soft, and mixing with wanton boughs, continually play and kiss; while those, like a coy maid in love, resist, and comply by turns; they, like a ravish'd vigorous lover, rush on with a transported violence, rudely embracing theirspring-dress'd mistress, ruffling her native order; while the prettybirds on the dancing branches incessantly make love; upbraiding dullerman with his defective want of fire: man, the lord of all! He to bestinted in the most valuable joy of life; is it not pity? Here is notroublesome honour, amongst the pretty inhabitants of the woods andstreams, fondly to give laws to nature, but uncontrolled they play, and sing, and love; no parents checking their dear delights, noslavish matrimonial ties to restrain their nobler flame. No spies tointerrupt their blest appointments; but every little nest is free andopen to receive the young fledg'd lover; every bough is conscious oftheir passion, nor do the generous pair languish in tedious ceremony;but meeting look, and like, and love, embrace with their wingy arms, and salute with their little opening bills; this is their courtship, this the amorous compliment, and this only the introduction to alltheir following happiness; and thus it is with the flocks and herds;while scanted man, born alone for the fatigues of love, withindustrious toil, and all his boasting arts of eloquence, his god-likeimage, and his noble form, may labour on a tedious term of years, withpain, expense, and hazard, before he can arrive at happiness, and thentoo perhaps his vows are unregarded, and all his sighs and tears arevain. Tell me, oh you fellow-lovers, ye amorous dear brutes, tell me, when ever you lay languishing beneath your coverts, thus for your fairshe, and durst not approach for fear of honour? Tell me, by a gentlebleat, ye little butting rams, do you sigh thus for your soft, whiteewes? Do you lie thus conceal'd, to wait the coming shades of night, 'till all the cursed spies are folded? No, no, even you are much moreblest than man, who is bound up to rules, fetter'd by the nicedecencies of honour. 

My divine maid, thus were my thoughts employ'd, when from the farthestend of the grove, where I now remain, I saw _Dorillus_ approach withthy welcome letter; he tells, you had like to have been surpris'd inmaking it up; and he receiv'd it with much difficulty: ah _Sylvia_, should any accident happen to prevent my seeing you to-night, I wereundone for ever, and you must expect to find me stretch'd out, deadand cold under this oak, where now I lie writing on its knotty root. Thy letter, I confess, is dear; it contains thy soul, and myhappiness; by this after-story of the surprise I long to be inform'dof, for from thence I may gather part of my fortune. I rave and diewith fear of a disappointment; not but I would undergo a thousandtorments and deaths for _Sylvia_; but oh consider me, and let me notsuffer if possible; for know, my charming angel, my impatient heart isalmost broke, and will not contain itself without being nearer myadorable maid, without taking in at my eyes a little comfort; no, I amresolv'd; put me not off with tricks, which foolish honour invents tojilt mankind with; for if you do, by heaven I will forget allconsiderations and respect, and force myself with all the violence ofraging love into the presence of my cruel _Sylvia_; own her mine, andravish my delight; nor shall the happy walls of _Bellfont_ be ofstrength sufficient to secure her; nay, persuade me not, for if youmake me mad and raving, this will be the effects on't. ----Oh pardonme, my sacred maid, pardon the wildness of my frantic love--I paused, took a turn or two in the lone path, consider'd what I had said, andfound it was too much, too bold, too rude to approach my soft, mytender maid: I am calm, my soul, as thy bewitching smiles; hush, asthy secret sighs, and will resolve to die rather than offend myadorable virgin; only send me word what you think of my fate, while Iexpect it here on this kind mossy bed where now I lie; which I wouldnot quit for a throne, since here I may hope the news may soonestarrive to make me happier than a god! which that nothing on my partmay prevent, I here vow in the face of heaven, I will not abuse thefreedom my _Sylvia_ blesses me with; nor shall my love go beyond thelimits of honour. _Sylvia_ shall command with a frown, and fetter mewith a smile; prescribe rules to my longing, ravish'd eyes, and pinionmy busy, fond, roving hands, and lay at her feet, like a tame slave, her adoring

PHILANDER. 

 * * * * *

_To_ PHILANDER. 

Approach, approach, you sacred Queen of Night, and bring _Philander_veil'd from all eyes but mine; approach at a fond lover's call, beholdhow I lie panting with expectation, tir'd out with your tediousceremony to the God of Day; be kind, oh lovely night, and let thedeity descend to his beloved _Thetis_'s arms, and I to my_Philander_'s; the sun and I must snatch our joys in the same happyhours; favour'd by thee, oh sacred, silent Night! See, see, theenamour'd sun is hasting on apace to his expecting mistress, whilethou dull Night art slowly lingering yet. Advance, my friend! mygoddess! and my confidante! hide all my blushes, all my softconfusions, my tremblings, transports, and eyes all languishing. 

Oh _Philander_! a thousand things I have done to divert the tedioushours, but nothing can; all things are dull without thee. I am tir'dwith every thing, impatient to end, as soon as I begin them; even theshades and solitary walks afford me now no ease, no satisfaction, andthought but afflicts me more, that us'd to relieve. And I at last haverecourse to my kind pen: for while I write, methinks I am talking tothee; I tell thee thus my soul, while thou, methinks, art all thewhile smiling and listening by; this is much easier than silentthought, and my soul is never weary of this converse; and thus I wouldspeak a thousand things, but that still, methinks, words do not enoughexpress my soul; to understand that right, there requires looks; thereis a rhetoric in looks; in sighs and silent touches that surpassesall; there is an accent in the sound of words too, that gives a senseand soft meaning to little things, which of themselves are of trivialvalue, and insignificant; and by the cadence of the utterance mayexpress a tenderness which their own meaning does not bear; by this Iwou'd insinuate, that the story of the heart cannot be so well told bythis way, as by presence and conversation; sure _Philander_understands what I mean by this, which possibly is nonsense to all buta lover, who apprehends all the little fond prattle of the thingbelov'd, and finds an eloquence in it, that to a sense unconcern'dwould appear even approaching to folly: but _Philander_, who has thetrue notions of love in him, apprehends all that can be said on thatdear subject; to him I venture to say any thing, whose kind and softimaginations can supply all my wants in the description of the soul:will it not, _Philander_? Answer me:--But oh, where art thou? I seethee not, I touch thee not; but when I haste with transport to embracethee, 'tis shadow all, and my poor arms return empty to my bosom: why, oh why com'st thou not? Why art thou cautious, and prudently waitestthe slow-pac'd night: oh cold, oh unreasonable lover, why?--But I growwild, and know not what I say: impatient love betrays me to a thousandfollies, a thousand rashnesses: I die with shame; but I must beundone, and it is no matter how, whether by my own weakness, _Philander_'s charms, or both, I know not; but so it is destin'd, --oh_Philander_, it is two tedious hours love has counted since you writto me, yet are but a quarter of a mile distant; what have you beendoing all that live-long while? Are you not unkind? Does not _Sylvia_lie neglected and unregarded in your thoughts? Huddled up confusedlywith your graver business of State, and almost lost in the ambitiouscrowd? Say, say, my lovely charmer, is she not? Does not this fatalinterest you espouse, rival your _Sylvia_? Is she not too oftenremov'd thence to let in that haughty tyrant mistress? Alas, _Philander_, I more than fear she is: and oh, my adorable lover, whenI look forward on our coming happiness, whenever I lay by the thoughtsof honour, and give a loose to love; I run not far in the pleasingcareer, before that dreadful thought stopp'd me on my way: I have afatal prophetic fear, that gives a check to my soft pursuit, and tellsme that thy unhappy engagement in this League, this accursedassociation, will one day undo us both, and part for ever thee and thyunlucky _Sylvia_; yes, yes, my dear lord, my soul does presage anunfortunate event from this dire engagement; nor can your falsereasoning, your fancied advantages, reconcile it to my honest, good-natur'd heart; and surely the design is inconsistent with love, for two such mighty contradictions and enemies, as love and ambition, or revenge, can never sure abide in one soul together, at least lovecan but share _Philander_'s heart; when blood and revenge (which hemiscalls glory) rivals it, and has possibly the greater part in it:methinks, this notion enlarges in me, and every word I speak, andevery minute's thought of it, strengthens its reason to me; and giveme leave (while I am full of the jealousy of it) to express mysentiments, and lay before you those reasons, that love and I thinkmost substantial ones; what you have hitherto desired of me, ohunreasonable _Philander_, and what I (out of modesty and honour)denied, I have reason to fear (from the absolute conquest you havemade of my heart) that some time or other the charming thief may breakin and rob me of; for fame and virtue love begins to laugh at. My dearunfortunate condition being thus, it is not impossible, oh_Philander_, but I may one day, in some unlucky hour, in some softbewitching moment, in some spiteful, critical, ravishing minute, yieldall to the charming _Philander_; and if so, where, oh where is mysecurity, that I shall not be abandon'd by the lovely victor? For itis not your vows which you call sacred (and I alas believe so) thatcan secure me, though I, heaven knows, believe them all, and amundone; you may keep them all too, and I believe you will; but oh_Philander_, in these fatal circumstances you have engag'd yourself, can you secure me my lover? Your protestations you may, but not thedear protestor. Is it not enough, oh _Philander_, for my eternalunquiet, and undoing, to know that you are married and cannottherefore be entirely mine; is not this enough, oh cruel _Philander_?But you must espouse a fatal cause too, more pernicious than that ofmatrimony, and more destructive to my repose: oh give me leave toreason with you, and since you have been pleas'd to trust and afflictme with the secret, which, honest as I am, I will never betray; yet, yet give me leave to urge the danger of it to you, and consequently tome, if you pursue it; when you are with me, we can think, and talk, and argue nothing but the mightier business of love; and it is fitthat I, so fondly, and fatally lov'd by you, should warn you of thedanger. Consider, my lord, you are born noble, from parents ofuntainted loyalty; blest with a fortune few princes beneathsovereignty are masters of; blest with all-gaining youth, commandingbeauty, wit, courage, bravery of mind, and all that renders menesteem'd and ador'd: what would you more? What is it, oh my charmingbrother then, that you set up for? Is it glory? Oh mistaken, lovelyyouth, that glory is but a glittering light, that flashes for amoment, and then disappears; it is a false bravery, that will bring aneternal blemish upon your honest fame and house; render yourhonourable name hated, detested and abominable in story to after ages;a traitor! the worst of titles, the most inglorious and shameful; whathas the King, our good, our gracious monarch, done to _Philander_? Howdisoblig'd him? Or indeed, what injury to mankind? Who has heoppress'd? Where play'd the tyrant or the ravisher? What one cruel orangry thing has he committed in all the time of his fortunate andpeaceable reign over us? Whose ox or whose ass has he unjustly taken?What orphan wrong'd, or widow's tears neglected? But all his life hasbeen one continued miracle; all good, all gracious, calm and merciful:and this good, this god-like King, is mark'd out for slaughter, design'd a sacrifice to the private revenge of a few ambitious knavesand rebels, whose pretence is the public good, and doomed to be baselymurdered. A murder! even on the worst of criminals, carries with it acowardice so black and infamous, as the most abject wretches, themeanest spirited creature has an abhorrence for. What! to murder a manunthinking, unwarn'd, unprepar'd and undefended! oh barbarous! oh poorand most unbrave! What villain is there lost to all humanity, to befound upon the face of the earth, that, when done, dare own so hellisha deed as the murder of the meanest of his fellow subjects, much lessthe sacred person of the king; the Lord's anointed; on whose awfulface 'tis impossible to look without that reverence wherewith onewould behold a god! For 'tis most certain, that every glance from hispiercing, wondrous eyes, begets a trembling adoration; for my part, Iswear to you, _Philander_, I never approach his sacred person, but myheart beats, my blood runs cold about me, and my eyes overflow withtears of joy, while an awful confusion seizes me all over; and I amcertain should the most harden'd of your bloody rebels look him in theface, the devilish instrument of death would drop from hissacrilegious hand, and leave him confounded at the feet of the royalforgiving sufferer; his eyes have in them something so fierce, somajestic, commanding, and yet so good and merciful, as would softenrebellion itself into repenting loyalty; and like _Caius Marius_, seemto say, --'Who is it dares hurt the King?'--They alone, like hisguardian angels, defend his sacred person: oh! what pity it is, unhappy young man, thy education was not near the King. 

'Tis plain, 'tis reasonable, 'tis honest, great and glorious tobelieve, what thy own sense (if thou wilt but think and consider) willinstruct thee in, that treason, rebellion and murder, are far from thepaths that lead to glory, which are as distant as hell from heaven. What is it then to advance? (Since I say 'tis plain, glory is neverthis way to be achiev'd. ) Is it to add more thousands to those fortunehas already so lavishly bestow'd on you? Oh my _Philander_, that's todouble the vast crime, which reaches already to damnation: would yourhonour, your conscience, your Christianity, or common humanity, sufferyou to enlarge your fortunes at the price of another's ruin; and makethe spoils of some honest, noble, unfortunate family, the rewards ofyour treachery? Would you build your fame on such a foundation?Perhaps on the destruction of some friend or kinsman. Oh barbarous andmistaken greatness; thieves and robbers would scorn such outrages, that had but souls and sense. 

Is it for addition of titles? What elevation can you have much greaterthan where you now stand fix'd? If you do not grow giddy with yourfancied false hopes, and fall from that glorious height you arealready arrived to, and which, with the honest addition of loyalty, isof far more value and lustre, than to arrive at crowns by blood andtreason. This will last; to ages last: while t'other will be ridicul'dto all posterity, short liv'd and reproachful here, infamous andaccursed to all eternity. 

Is it to make _Cesario_ king? Oh what is _Cesario_ to my _Philander_?If a monarchy you design, then why not this king, this great, thisgood, this royal forgiver? This, who was born a king, and born yourking; and holds his crown by right of nature, by right of law, byright of heaven itself; heaven who has preserved him, and confirmedhim ours, by a thousand miraculous escapes and sufferings, andindulged him ours by ten thousand acts of mercy, and endeared him tous by his wondrous care and conduct, by securing of peace, plenty, ease and luxurious happiness, over all the fortunate limits of hisblessed kingdoms: and will you? Would you destroy this wondrous giftof heaven? This god-like king, this real good we now possess, for amost uncertain one; and with it the repose of all the happy nation? Toestablish a king without law, without right, without consent, withouttitle, and indeed without even competent parts for so vast a trust, orso glorious a rule? One who never oblig'd the nation by one single actof goodness or valour, in all the course of his life; and who neversignaliz'd himself to the advantage of one man of all the kingdom: aprince unfortunate in his principles and morals; and whose sole, single ingratitude to His Majesty, for so many royal bounties, honours, and glories heap'd upon him, is of itself enough to set anyhonest generous heart against him. What is it bewitches you so? Is ithis beauty? Then _Philander_ has a greater title than _Cesario_; andnot one other merit has he, since in piety, chastity, sobriety, charity and honour, he as little excels, as in gratitude, obedienceand loyalty. What then, my dear _Philander_? Is it his weakness? Ah, there's the argument: you all propose, and think to govern so soft aking: but believe me, oh unhappy _Philander_! Nothing is moreungovernable than a fool; nothing more obstinate, wilful, conceited, and cunning; and for his gratitude, let the world judge what he mustprove to his servants, who has dealt so ill with his lord and master;how he must reward those that present him with a crown, who deals soungraciously with him who gave him life, and who set him up an happierobject than a monarch: no, no, _Philander_; he that can cabal, andcontrive to dethrone a father, will find it easy to discard the wickedand hated instruments, that assisted him to mount it; decline himthen, oh fond and deluded _Philander_, decline him early; for you ofall the rest ought to do so, and not to set a helping hand to load himwith honours, that chose you out from all the world to load withinfamy: remember that; remember _Myrtilla_, and then renounce him; donot you contribute to the adorning of his unfit head with a diadem, the most glorious of ornaments, who unadorned yours with the mostinglorious of all reproaches. Think of this, oh thou unconsideringnoble youth; lay thy hand upon thy generous heart, and tell it all thefears, all the reasonings of her that loves thee more than life. Athousand arguments I could bring, but these few unstudied (falling inamongst my softer thoughts) I beg you will accept of, till I can moreat large deliver the glorious argument to your soul; let this sufficeto tell thee, that, like _Cassandra_, I rave and prophesy in vain;this association will be the eternal ruin of _Philander_; for let itsucceed or not, either way thou art undone; if thou pursuest it, Imust infallibly fall with thee, if I resolve to follow thy good or illfortune; for you cannot intend love and ambition, _Sylvia_ and_Cesario_ at once: no, persuade me not; the title to one or t'othermust be laid down, _Sylvia_ or _Cesario_ must be abandon'd: this is myfix'd resolve, if thy too powerful arguments convince not in spite ofreason, for they can do it; thou hast the tongue of an angel, and theeloquence of a god, and while I listen to thy voice, I take all thousay'st for wondrous sense. --Farewell; about two hours hence I shallexpect you at the gate that leads into the garden grove--adieu!Remember

SYLVIA. 

 * * * * *

_To_ SYLVIA. 

How comes my charming _Sylvia_ so skilled in the mysteries of State?Where learnt her tender heart the notions of rigid business? Where hersoft tongue, formed only for the dear language of love, to talk of theconcerns of nations and kingdoms? 'Tis true, when I gave my soul awayto my dear counsellor, I reserved nothing to myself, not even thatsecret that so concerned my life, but laid all at her mercy; mygenerous heart could not love at a less rate, than to lavish all andbe undone for _Sylvia_; 'tis glorious ruin, and it pleases me, if itadvance one single joy, or add one demonstration of my love to_Sylvia_; 'tis not enough that we tell those we love all they love tohear, but one ought to tell them too, every secret that we know, andconceal no part of that heart one has made a present of to the personone loves; 'tis a treason in love not to be pardoned: I am sensible, that when my story is told (and this happy one of my love shall makeup the greatest part of my history) those that love not like me willbe apt to blame me, and charge me with weakness, for revealing sogreat a trust to a woman, and amongst all that I shall do to arrive atglory, that will brand me with feebleness; but _Sylvia_, when loversshall read it, the men will excuse me, and the maids bless me! I shallbe a fond admired precedent for them to point out to their remissreserving lovers, who will be reproached for not pursuing my example. I know not what opinion men generally have of the weakness of women;but 'tis sure a vulgar error, for were they like my adorable _Sylvia_, had they had her wit, her vivacity of spirit, her courage, hergenerous fortitude, her command in every graceful look and action, they were most certainly fit to rule and reign; and man was only bornrobust and strong, to secure them on those thrones they are formed (bybeauty, softness, and a thousand charms which men want) to possess. Glorious woman was born for command and dominion; and though customhas usurped us the name of rule over all; we from the beginning foundourselves (in spite of all our boasted prerogative) slaves and vassalsto the almighty sex. Take then my share of empire, ye gods; and giveme love! Let me toil to gain, but let _Sylvia_ triumph and reign; Iask no more than the led slave at her chariot wheels, to gaze on mycharming conqueress, and wear with joy her fetters! Oh how proud Ishould be to see the dear victor of my soul so elevated, so adorn'dwith crowns and sceptres at her feet, which I had won; to see hersmiling on the adoring crowd, distributing her glories to youngwaiting princes; there dealing provinces, and there a coronet. Heavens! methinks I see the lovely virgin in this state, her chariotslowly driving through the multitude that press to gaze upon her, shedress'd like _Venus_, richly gay and loose, her hair and robe blown bythe flying winds, discovering a thousand charms to view; thus theyoung goddess looked, then when she drove her chariot down descendingclouds, to meet the love-sick gods in cooling shades; and so wouldlook my _Sylvia_! Ah, my soft, lovely maid; such thoughts as thesefir'd me with ambition: for me, I swear by every power that made melove, and made thee wondrous fair, I design no more by this greatenterprise than to make thee some glorious thing, elevated above whatwe have seen yet on earth; to raise thee above fate or fortune, beyondthat pity of thy duller sex, who understand not thy soul, nor can everreach the flights of thy generous love! No, my soul's joy, I must notleave thee liable to their little natural malice and scorn, to theimpertinence of their reproaches. No, my _Sylvia_, I must on, thegreat design must move forward; though I abandon it, 'twill advance;it is already too far to put a stop to it; and now I am entered, it isin vain to retreat; if we are prosperous, it will to all ages becalled a glorious enterprise; but if we fail, it will be base, horridand infamous; for the world judges of nothing but by the success; thatcause is always good that is prosperous, that is ill which isunsuccessful. Should I now retreat, I run many hazards; but to go on Irun but one; by the first I shall alarm the whole cabal with ajealousy of my discovering, and those are persons of too great senseand courage, not to take some private way of revenge, to secure theirown stakes; and to make myself uncertainly safe by a discovery, indeed, were to gain a refuge so ignoble, as a man of honour wouldscorn to purchase life at; nor would that baseness secure me. But ingoing on, oh _Sylvia_! when three kingdoms shall lie unpossess'd, andbe exposed, as it were, amongst the raffling crowd, who knows but thechance may be mine, as well as any other's, who has but the samehazard, and throw for it? If the strongest sword must do it, (as thatmust do it) why not mine still? Why may not mine be that fortunateone? _Cesario_ has no more right to it than _Philander_; 'tis true, afew of the rabble will pretend he has a better title to it, but theyare a sort of easy fools, lavish in nothing but noise and nonsense;true to change and inconstancy, and will abandon him to their own furyfor the next that cries Haloo: neither is there one part of fifty (ofthe fools that cry him up) for his interest, though they use him for atool to work with, he being the only great man that wants sense enoughto find out the cheat which they dare impose upon. Can any body ofreason believe, if they had design'd him good, they would let himbare-fac'd have own'd a party so opposite to all laws of nature, religion, humanity, and common gratitude? When his interest, ifdesign'd, might have been carried on better, if he had stilldissembled and stay'd in Court: no, believe me, _Sylvia_, thepoliticians shew him, to render him odious to all men of tolerablesense of the party; for what reason soever they have who aredisoblig'd (or at least think themselves so) to set up for liberty, the world knows _Cesario_ renders himself the worst of criminals byit, and has abandon'd an interest more glorious and easy than empire, to side with and aid people that never did, or ever can oblige him;and he is so dull as to imagine that for his sake, who never did usservice or good, (unless cuckolding us be good) we should venture lifeand fame to pull down a true monarch, to set up his bastard over us. _Cesario_ must pardon me, if I think his politics are shallow as hisparts, and that his own interest has undone him; for of what advantagesoever the design may be to us, it really shocks one's nature to finda son engag'd against a father, and to him such a father. Nor, whentime comes, shall I forget the ruin of _Myrtilla_. But let him hopeon--and so will I, as do a thousand more, for ought I know; I set outas fair as they, and will start as eagerly; if I miss it now, I haveyouth and vigour sufficient for another race; and while I stand onfortune's wheel as she rolls it round, it may be my turn to be o'th'top; for when 'tis set in motion, believe me, _Sylvia_, it is noteasily fix'd: however let it suffice, I am now in, past a retreat, andto urge it now to me, is but to put me into inevitable danger; at bestit can but set me where I was; that is worse than death. When everyfool is aiming at a kingdom, what man of tolerable pride and ambitioncan be unconcerned, and not put himself into a posture of catching, when a diadem shall be thrown among the crowd? It were insensibility, stupid dullness, not to lift a hand, or make an effort to snatch it asit flies: though the glorious falling weight should crush me, it isgreat to attempt; and if fortune do not favour fools, I have as fair agrasp for it as any other adventurer. 

This, my _Sylvia_, is my sense of a business you so much dread; I mayrise, but I cannot fall; therefore, my _Sylvia_, urge it no more; lovegave me ambition, and do not divert the glorious effects of yourwondrous charms, but let them grow, and spread, and see what they willproduce for my lovely _Sylvia_, the advantages will most certainly behers:--But no more: how came my love so dull to entertain thee so manyminutes thus with reasons for an affair, which one soft hour with_Sylvia_ will convince to what she would have it; believe me, it will, I will sacrifice all to her repose, nay, to her least command, eventhe life of

_(My eternal pleasure) Your_ PHILANDER. 

_I have no longer patience, I must be coming towards the grove, thoughit will do me no good, more than knowing I am so much nearer to myadorable creature. _

_I conjure you burn this, for writing in haste I have notcounterfeited my hand. _

 * * * * *

_To_ SYLVIA. _Writ in a pair of tablets. _

My charmer, I wait your commands in the meadow behind the grove, whereI saw _Dorinda_, _Dorillus_ his daughter, entering with a basket ofcowslips for _Sylvia_, unnecessarily offering sweets to the Goddess ofthe Groves, from whence they (with all the rest of their gaudy fellowsof the spring) assume their ravishing odours. I take every opportunityof telling my _Sylvia_ what I have so often repeated, and shall beever repeating with the same joy while I live, that I love my _Sylvia_to death and madness; that my soul is on the rack, till she send methe happy advancing word. And yet believe me, lovely maid, I couldgrow old with waiting here the blessed moment, though set at anydistance (within the compass of life, and impossible to be 'till thenarriv'd to) but when I am so near approach'd it, love from all partsrallies and hastens to my heart for the mighty encounter, 'till thepoor panting over-loaded victim dies with the pressing weight. Nomore, --You know it, for it is, and will be eternally _Sylvia_'s. 

POSTSCRIPT. 

_Remember, my adorable, it is now seven o'clock: I have my watch in myhand, waiting and looking on the slow pac'd minutes. Eight willquickly arrive, I hope, and then it is dark enough to hide me; thinkwhere I am, and who I am, waiting near_ Sylvia, and her Philander. 

_I think, my dear angel, you have the other key of these tablets, ifnot, they are easily broke open: you have an hour good to write in, _Sylvia _and I shall wait unemployed by any thing but thought. Send meword how you were like to have been surpris'd; it may possibly be ofadvantage to me in this night's dear adventure. I wonder'd at thesuperscription of my letter indeed, of which_ Dorillus _could give meno other account, than that you were surpris'd, and he receiv'd itwith difficulty; give me the story now, do it in charity my angel. Besides, I would employ all thy moments, for I am jealous of every onethat is not dedicated to_ Sylvia's Philander. 

 * * * * *

_To_ PHILANDER. 

I have received your tablets, of which I have the key, and heaven onlyknows (for lovers cannot, unless they loved like _Sylvia_, and her_Philander_) what pains and pantings my heart sustain'd at everythought they brought me of thy near approach; every moment I start, and am ready to faint with joy, fear, and something not to beexpress'd that seizes me. To add to this, I have busied myself withdressing my apartment up with flowers, so that I fancy the ceremoniousbusiness of the light looks like the preparations for the dear joy ofthe nuptial bed; that too is so adorn'd and deck'd with all that'ssweet and gay; all which possesses me with so ravishing and solemn aconfusion, that it is even approaching to the most profound sadnessitself. Oh _Philander_, I find I am fond of being undone; and unlessyou take a more than mortal care of me, I know this night some fatalmischief will befall me; what it is I know not, either the loss of_Philander_, my life, or my honour, or all together, which a discoveryonly of your being alone in my apartment, and at such an hour, willmost certainly draw upon us: death is the least we must expect, bysome surprise or other, my father being rash, and extremely jealous, and the more so of me, by how much more he is fond of me, and nothingwould enrage him like the discovery of an interview like this; thoughyou have liberty to range the house of _Bellfont_ as a son, and areindeed at home there; but when you come by stealth, when he shall findhis son and virgin daughter, the brother and the sister so retired, soentertained, --What but death can ensue? Or what is worse, eternalshame? Eternal confusion on my honour? What excuse, what evasions, vows and protestations will convince him, or appease _Myrtilla_'sjealousy; _Myrtilla_, my sister, and _Philander_'s wife? Oh God! thatcruel thought will put me into ravings; I have a thousand streams ofkilling reflections which flow from that original fountain! Curse onthe alliance, that gave you a welcome to _Bellfont_. Ah _Philander_, could you not have stay'd ten short years longer? Alas, you thoughtthat was an age in youth, but it is but a day in love: Ah, could notyour eager youth have led you to a thousand diversions, a thousandtimes have baited in the long journey of life, without hurrying on tothe last stage, to the last retreat, but the grave; and to me seem asirrecoverable, as impossible to retrieve thee!--Could no kind beautystop thee on thy way, in charity or pity; _Philander_ saw me then. Andthough _Myrtilla_ was more fit for his caresses, and I but capable toplease with childish prattle; oh could he not have seen a promisingbloom in my face, that might have foretold the future conquests I wasborn to make? Oh! was there no prophetic charm that could bespeak yourheart, engage it, and prevent that fatal marriage? You say, myadorable brother, we were destined from our creation for one another;that the decrees of heaven, or fate, or both, design'd us for thismutual passion: why then, oh why did not heaven, fate or destiny, dothe mighty work, when first you saw my infant charms? But oh, _Philander_, why do I vainly rave? Why call in vain on time that'sfled and gone? Why idly wish for ten years' retribution? That will notyield a day, an hour, a minute: no, no, 'tis past, 'tis past and flownfor ever, as distant as a thousand years to me, as irrecoverable. Oh_Philander_, what hast thou thrown away? Ten glorious years ofravishing youth, of unmatch'd heavenly beauty, on one that knew nothalf the value of it! _Sylvia_ was only born to set a rate upon it, was only capable of love, such love as might deserve it: oh why wasthat charming face ever laid on any bosom that knew not how to sigh, and pant, and heave at every touch of so much distracting beauty? Ohwhy were those dear arms, whose soft pressings ravish where theycircle, destin'd for a body cold and dull, that could sleep insensiblythere, and not so much as dream the while what the transportingpleasure signified; but unconcerned receive the wondrous blessing, andnever knew its price, or thank'd her stars? She has thee all the dayto gaze upon, and yet she lets thee pass her careless sight, as ifthere were no miracles in view: she does not see the little gods oflove that play eternally in thy eyes; and since she never received adart from thence, believes there's no artillery there. She plays notwith thy hair, nor weaves her snowy fingers in the curls of jet, setsit in order, and adores its beauty: the fool with flaxen-wig had doneas well for her; a dull, white coxcomb had made as good a property; ahusband is no more, at best no more. Oh thou charming object of myeternal wishes, why wert thou thus dispos'd? Oh save my life, and tellme what indifferent impulse obliged thee to these nuptials: had_Myrtilla_ been recommended or forc'd by the tyranny of a father intothy arms, or for base lucre thou hadst chosen her, this had excus'dthy youth and crime; obedience or vanity I could have pardon'd, --butoh--'twas love; love, my _Philander_! thy raving love, and that whichhas undone thee was a rape rather than marriage; you fled with her. Ohheavens, mad to possess, you stole the unloving prize!--Yes, you lov'dher, false as you are, you did; perjur'd and faithless. Lov'dher?--Hell and confusion on the word; it was so--Oh _Philander_, I amlost--

_This letter was found torn in pieces. _

 * * * * *

_To_ Monsieur, the Count of--

_My Lord_, These pieces of paper, which I have put together as well asI could, were writ by my lady to have been sent by _Dorinda_, when ona sudden she rose in rage from her seat, tore first the paper, andthen her robes and hair, and indeed nothing has escaped the violenceof her passion; nor could my prayers or tears retrieve them, or calmher: 'tis however chang'd at last to mighty passions of weeping, inwhich employment I have left her on her repose, being commanded away. I thought it my duty to give your lordship this account, and to sendthe pieces of paper, that your lordship may guess at the occasion ofthe sudden storm which ever rises in that fatal quarter; but inputting them in order, I had like to have been surprised by my lady'sfather; for my Lord, the Count, having long solicited me for favours, and taking all opportunities of entertaining me, found me alone in mychamber, employ'd in serving your lordship; I had only time to hidethe papers, and to get rid of him, having given him an assignationto-night in the garden grove, to give him the hearing to what he sayshe has to propose to me: pray heaven all things go right to yourlordship's wish this evening, for many ominous things happen'd to-day. Madam, the Countess, had like to have taken a letter writ for yourlordship to-day; for the Duchess of ---- coming to make her a visit, came on a sudden with her into my lady's apartment, and surpris'd herwriting in her dressing room, giving her only time to slip the paperinto her combbox. The first ceremonies being pass'd, as Madam, theDuchess, uses not much, she fell to commend my lady's dressing-plate, and taking up the box, and opening it, found the letter, and laughing, cried, 'Oh, have I found you making love;' at which my lady, with aninfinite confusion, would have retrieved it, --but the Duchess notquitting her hold, cried--'Nay, I am resolved to see in what manneryou write to a lover, and whether you have a heart tender or cruel?'At which she began to read aloud, my lady to blush and change colour ahundred times in a minute: I ready to die with fear; Madam theCountess, in infinite amazement, my lady interrupting every word theDuchess read, by prayers and entreaties, which heightened hercuriosity, and being young and airy, regarded not the indecency towhich she preferr'd her curiosity, who still laughing, cried she wasresolv'd to read it out, and know the constitution of her heart; whenmy lady, whose wit never fail'd her, cried, 'I beseech you, madam, letus have so much complaisance for _Melinda_ as to ask her consent inthis affair, and then I am pleas'd you should see what love I can makeupon occasion:' I took the hint, and with a real confusion, cried--'Iimplore you, madam, not to discover my weakness to Madam, the Duchess;I would not for the world--be thought to love so passionately, as yourladyship, in favour of _Alexis_, has made me profess, under the nameof _Sylvia_ to _Philander_'. This encouraged my lady, who began to saya thousand pleasant things of _Alexis_, _Dorillus_ his son, and mylover, as your lordship knows, and who is no inconsiderable fortunefor a maid, enrich'd only by your lordship's bounty. My lady, afterthis, took the letter, and all being resolv'd it should be read, sheherself did it, and turned it so prettily into burlesque love by hermanner of reading it, that made Madam, the Duchess, laugh extremely;who at the end of it, cried to my lady--'Well, madam, I am satisfiedyou have not a heart wholly insensible of love, that could so expressit for another. ' Thus they rallied on, till careful of my lover'srepose, the Duchess urg'd the letter might be immediately sent away;at which my lady readily folding up the letter, writ '_For theConstant_ Alexis', on the outside: I took it, and begg'd I might haveleave to retire to write it over in my own hand; they permitted me, and I carried it, after sealing it, to _Dorillus_, who waited for it, and wondering to find his son's name on it, cried 'Mistress, _Melinda_, I doubt you have mistook my present business; I wait for aletter from my lady to my lord, and you give me one from yourself tomy son _Alexis_; 'twill be very welcome to _Alexis_ I confess, but atthis time I had rather oblige my lord than my son:' I laughingreplied, he was mistaken, that _Alexis_, at this time, meant no otherthan my lord, which pleas'd the good man extremely, who thought it agood omen for his son, and so went his way satisfied; as every bodywas, except the Countess, who fancied something more in it than mylady's inditing for me; and after Madam the Duchess was gone, she wentruminating and pensive to her chamber, from whence I am confident shewill not depart to-night, and will possibly set spies in every corner;at least 'tis good to fear the worst, that we may prevent all thingsthat would hinder this night's assignation: as soon as the coast isclear, I'll wait on your lordship, and be your conductor, and in allthings else am ready to shew myself, _My Lord, _

_Your lordship's most humbleand most obedient servant, _

MELINDA. 

Sylvia _has given orders to wait on your lordship as soon as all isclear. _

 * * * * *

_To_ MELINDA. 

Oh _Melinda_, what have you told me? Stay me with an immediate accountof the recovery and calmness of my adorable weeping _Sylvia_, or Ishall enter _Bellfont_ with my sword drawn, bearing down all beforeme, 'till I make my way to my charming mourner: O God! _Sylvia_ in arage! _Sylvia_ in any passion but that of love? I cannot bear it, no, by heaven I cannot; I shall do some outrage either on myself or at_Bellfont_. Oh thou dear advocate of my tenderest wishes, thouconfidante of my never dying flame, thou kind administering maid, sendsome relief to my breaking heart--haste and tell me, _Sylvia_ is calm, that her bright eyes sparkle with smiles, or if they languish, say'tis with love, with expecting joys; that her dear hands are no moreemployed in exercises too rough and unbecoming their native softness. O eternal God! tearing perhaps her divine hair, brighter than thesun's reflecting beams, injuring the heavenly beauty of her charmingface and bosom, the joy and wish of all mankind that look upon her: ohcharm her with prayers and tears, stop her dear fingers from the rudeassaults; bind her fair hands; repeat _Philander_ to her, tell herhe's fainting with the news of her unkindness and outrage on herlovely self; but tell her too, I die adoring her; tell her I rave, Itear, I curse myself, --for so I do; tell her I would break out into aviolence that should set all _Bellfont_ in a flame, but for my care ofher. Heaven and earth should not restrain me, --no, they shouldnot, ----But her least frown should still me, tame me, and make me acalm coward: say this, say all, say any thing to charm her rage andtears. Oh I am mad, stark-mad, and ready to run on business I die tothink her guilty of: tell her how it would grieve her to see me tornand mangled; to see that hair she loves ruffled and diminish'd byrage, violated by my insupportable grief, myself quite bereft of allsense but that of love, but that of adoration for my charming, cruelinsensible, who is possessed with every thought, with everyimagination that can render me unhappy, borne away with every fancythat is in disfavour of the wretched _Philander_. Oh _Melinda_, writeimmediately, or you will behold me enter a most deplorable object ofpity. 

When I receiv'd yours, I fell into such a passion that I forc'd myselfback to _Dorillus_ his house, left my transports and hurried me to_Bellfont_, where I should have undone all: but as I can now rest nowhere, I am now returning to the meadow again, where I will expectyour aid, or die. 

_From_ Dorillus _his cottage, almost nine o'clock. _

 * * * * *

_To_ PHILANDER. 

I must own, my charming _Philander_, that my love is now arrived tothat excess, that every thought which before but discompos'd me, nowputs me into a violence of rage unbecoming my sex; or any thing butthe mighty occasion of it, love, and which only had power to calm whatit had before ruffled into a destructive storm: but like the anger'dsea, which pants and heaves, and retains still an uneasy motion longafter the rude winds are appeas'd and hush'd to silence; my heartbeats still, and heaves with the sensible remains of the latedangerous tempest of my mind, and nothing can absolutely calm me butthe approach of the all-powerful _Philander_; though that thoughtpossesses me with ten thousand fears, which I know will vanish all atthy appearance, and assume no more their dreadful shapes till thou artgone again: bring me then that kind cessation, bring me my_Philander_, and set me above the thoughts of cares, frights, or anyother thoughts but those of tender love; haste then, thou charmingobject of my eternal wishes, and of my new desires; haste to my arms, my eyes, my soul, --but oh, be wondrous careful there, do not betraythe easy maid that trusts thee amidst all her sacred store. 

'Tis almost dark, and my mother is retired to her chamber, my fatherto his cabinet, and has left all that apartment next the garden whollywithout spies. I have, by trusty _Dorillus_, sent you a key _Melinda_got made to the door, which leads from the garden to the black-stairsto my apartment, so carefully locked, and the original key so closelyguarded by my jealous father: that way I beg you to come; a way buttoo well known to _Philander_, and by which he has made many an escapeto and from _Myrtilla_. Oh damn that thought, what makes it torturingme, ----let me change it for those of _Philander_, the advantage willbe as great as bartering hell for heaven; haste then, _Philander_: butwhat need I bid thee, love will lend thee his wings; thou whocommandest all his artillery, put them on, and fly to thy languishing

SYLVIA. 

_Oh I faint with the dear thought of thy approach. _

 * * * * *

_To the Charming_ SYLVIA. 

With much ado, with many a sigh, a panting heart, and many alanguishing look back towards happy _Bellfont_, I have recovered_Dorillus_ his farm, where I threw me on a bed, and lay withoutmotion, and almost without life for two hours; till at last, throughall my sighs, my great concern, my torment, my love and rage brokesilence, and burst into all the different complaints both soft and madby turns, that ever possessed a soul extravagantly seized with franticlove; ah, _Sylvia_, what did not I say? How did I not curse, and whoexcept my charming maid? For yet my _Sylvia_ is a maid: yes, yes, yeenvying powers, she is, and yet the sacred and inestimable treasurewas offered a trembling victim to the overjoyed and fancied deity, forthen and there I thought myself happier than a triumphing god; buthaving overcome all difficulties, all the fatigues and toils of love'slong sieges, vanquish'd the mighty phantom of the fair, the gianthonour, and routed all the numerous host of women's little reasonings, passed all the bounds of peevish modesty; nay, even all the loose andsilken counterscarps that fenced the sacred fort, and nothing stoppedmy glorious pursuit: then, then, ye gods, just then, by anover-transport, to fall just fainting before the surrendering gates, unable to receive the yielding treasure! Oh _Sylvia_! What _demon_, malicious at my glory, seized my vigour? What god, envious of mymighty joy, rendered me a shameful object of his raillery? Snatched my(till then) never failing power, and left me dying on thy charmingbosom. Heavens, how I lay! Silent with wonder, rage and ecstasy oflove, unable to complain, or rail, or storm, or seek for ease, butwith my sighs alone, which made up all my breath; my mad desiresremained, but all inactive, as age or death itself, as cold andfeeble, as unfit for joy, as if my youthful fire had long been past, or _Sylvia_ had never been blest with charms. Tell me, thou wondrousperfect creature, tell me, where lay the hidden witchcraft? Was_Sylvia_'s beauty too divine to mix with mortal joys? Ah no, 'twasravishing, but human all. Yet sure 'twas so approaching to divinity, as changed my fire to awful adoration, and all my wanton heat toreverent contemplation. --But this is nonsense all, it was somethingmore that gave me rage, despair and torments insupportable: no, it wasno dull devotion, tame divinity, but mortal killing agony, unluckydisappointment, unnatural impotence. Oh! I am lost, enchanted by somemagic spell: oh, what can _Sylvia_ say? What can she think of my fondpassion; she'll swear it is all a cheat, I had it not. No, it couldnot be; such tales I've often heard, as often laughed at too, ofdisappointed lovers; would _Sylvia_ believe (as sure she may) mine wasexcess of passion: what! My _Sylvia_! being arrived to all the joy oflove, just come to reap the glorious recompense, the full reward, theheaven for all my sufferings, do I lie gazing only, and no more? Adull, a feeble unconcerned admirer! Oh my eternal shame!--Curse on myyouth; give me, ye powers, old age, for that has some excuse, butyouth has none: 'tis dullness, stupid insensibility: where shall Ihide my head when this lewd story's told? When it shall be confirmed, _Philander_ the young, the brisk and gay _Philander_, who never failedthe woman he scarce wished for, never baulked the amorous conceitedold, nor the ill-favoured young, yet when he had extended in his armsthe young, the charming fair and longing _Sylvia_, the untouched, unspotted, and till then, unwishing lovely maid, yielded, defenceless, and unguarded all, he wanted power to seize the trembling prey: defendme, heaven, from madness. Oh _Sylvia_, I have reflected on all thelittle circumstances that might occasion this disaster, and damn me tothis degree of coldness, but I can fix on none: I had, it is true, for_Sylvia_'s sake, some apprehensions of fear of being surprised; forcoming through the garden, I saw at the farther end a man, at least Ifancied by that light it was a man; who perceiving the glimpse ofsomething approach from the grove, made softly towards me, but withsuch caution, as if he feared to be mistaken in the person, as much asI was to approach him: and reminding what _Melinda_ told me, of anassignation she had made to _Monsieur_ the Count--imagined it him; norwas I mistaken when I heard his voice calling in low tone--'_Melinda_'--at which I mended my pace, and ere he got half way the gardenrecovered the door, and softly unlocking it, got in unperceived, andfastened it after me, well enough assured that he saw not which way Ivanished: however, it failed not to alarm me with some fears on yourdear account, that disturbed my repose, and which I thought then notnecessary to impart to you, and which indeed all vanished at the sightof my adorable maid: when entering thy apartment, I beheld theeextended on a bed of roses, in garments, which, if possible, by theirwanton loose negligence and gaiety, augmented thy natural charms: Itrembling fell on my knees by your bed-side and gazed a while, unableto speak for transports of joy and love: you too were silent, andremained so, so long that I ventured to press your lips with mine, which all their eager kisses could not put in motion, so that I fearedyou fainted; a sudden fright, that in a moment changed my fever oflove into a cold ague fit; but you revived me with a sigh again, andfired me anew, by pressing my hand, and from that silent softencouragement, I, by degrees, ravished a thousand blisses; yet stillbetween your tempting charming kisses, you would cry--'Oh, my_Philander_, do not injure me, --be sure you press me not to the lastjoys of love, --Oh have a care, or I am undone for ever: restrain yourroving hands, ----Oh whither would they wander?----My soul, my joy, myeverlasting charmer, oh whither would you go?'--Thus with a thousandcautions more, which did but raise what you designed to calm, youmade me but the madder to possess: not all the vows you bid me callto mind, could now restrain my wild and headstrong passion; my raving, raging (but my soft) desire: no, _Sylvia_, no, it was not in the powerof feeble flesh and blood to find resistance against so many charms;yet still you made me swear, still I protested, but still burnt onwith the same torturing flame, till the vast pleasure even became apain: to add to this, I saw, (yes, _Sylvia_, not all your art andmodesty could hide it) I saw the ravishing maid as much inflamed as I;she burnt with equal fire, with equal languishment: not all her carecould keep the sparks concealed, but it broke out in every word andlook; her trembling tongue, her feeble fainting voice betrayed it all;sighs interrupting every syllable; a languishment I never saw tillthen dwelt in her charming eyes, that contradicted all her littlevows; her short and double breathings heaved her breast, her swellingsnowy breast, her hands that grasped me trembling as they closed, while she permitted mine unknown, unheeded to traverse all herbeauties, till quite forgetting all I had faintly promised, and whollyabandoning my soul to joy, I rushed upon her, who, all fainting, laybeneath my useless weight, for on a sudden all my power was fled, swifter than lightning hurried through my enfeebled veins, andvanished all: not the dear lovely beauty which I pressed, the dyingcharms of that fair face and eyes, the clasps of those soft arms, northe bewitching accent of her voice, that murmured love half smotheredin her sighs, nor all my love, my vast, my mighty passion, could callmy fugitive vigour back again: oh no, the more I looked--the more Itouched and saw, the more I was undone. Oh pity me, my too I toolovely maid, do not revile the faults which you alone create. Considerall your charms at once exposed, consider every sense about meravished, overcome with joys too mighty to be supported, no wonder ifI fell a shameful sacrifice to the fond deity: consider how I waited, how I strove, and still I burnt on, and every tender touch stilladded fuel to the vigorous fire, which by your delay consumed itselfin burning. I want philosophy to make this out, or faith to fix myunhappiness on any chance or natural accident; but this, my charming_Sylvia_, I am sure, that had I loved you less, I'd been lesswretched: nor had we parted, _Sylvia_, on so ill terms, nor had I leftyou with an opinion so disadvantageous for _Philander_, but for thatunhappy noise at your chamber-door, which alarming your fear, occasioned your recovery from that dear trance, to which love and softdesire had reduced you, and me from the most tormenting silent agonythat disappointed joy ever possessed a fond expecting heart with. Ohheavens! to have my _Sylvia_ in my power, favoured by silence, nightand safe retreat! then, then, to lie a tame cold sigher only, as if my_Sylvia_ gave that assignation alone by stealth, undressed, all looseand languishing, fit for the mighty business of the night, only tohear me prattle, see me gaze, or tell her what a pretty sight it wasto see the moon shine through the dancing boughs. Oh damn my hardeneddullness!--But no more, --I am all fire and madness at the thought, --but I was saying, _Sylvia_, we both recovered then when the noisealarmed us. I long to know whether you think we were betrayed, for onthat knowledge rests a mighty part of my destiny: I hope we are not, by an accident that befell me at my going away, which (but for myuntimely force of leaving my lovely _Sylvia_, which gave me painsinsupportable) would have given me great diversion. You know our fearof being discovered occasioned my disguise, for you found itnecessary I should depart, your fear had so prevailed, and that in_Melinda_'s night-gown and head-dress: thus attired, with much ado, Iwent and left my soul behind me, and finding no body all along thegallery, nor in my passage from your apartment into the garden, I wasa thousand times about to return to all my joys; when in the midst ofthis almost ended dispute, I saw by the light of the moon (which wasby good fortune under a cloud, and could not distinctly direct thesight) a man making towards me with cautious speed, which made meadvance with the more haste to recover the grove, believing to haveescaped him under the covert of the trees; for retreat I could not, without betraying which way I went; but just at the entrance of thethicket, he turning short made up to me, and I perceived it _Monsieur_the Count, who taking me for _Melinda_, whom it seems he expected, caught hold of my gown as I would have passed him, and cried, 'Now_Melinda_, I see you are a maid of honour, --come, retire with me intothe grove, where I have a present of a heart and something else tomake you, that will be of more advantage to you than that of _Alexis_, though something younger. '--I all confounded knew not what to reply, nor how, lest he should find his mistake, at least, if he discoverednot who I was: which silence gave him occasion to go on, which he didin this manner: 'What not a word, _Melinda_, or do you design I shalltake your silence for consent? If so, come my pretty creature, let usnot lose the hour love has given us;' at this he would have advanced, leading me by the hand, which he pressed and kissed very amorously:judge, my adorable _Sylvia_, in what a fine condition your _Philander_then was in. What should I do? To go had disappointed him worse than Iwas with thee before; not to go, betrayed me: I had much ado to holdmy countenance, and unwilling to speak. While I was thus employed inthought, _Monsieur_----pulling me (eager of joys to come, ) and Iholding back, he stopped and cried, 'Sure, _Melinda_, you came nothither to bring me a denial. ' I then replied, whispering, --'Softly, sir, for heaven's sake' (sweetening my voice as much as possible)'consider I am a maid, and would not be discovered for the world. ''Who can discover us?' replied my lover, 'what I take from thee shallnever be missed, not by _Alexis_ himself upon thy weddingnight;--Come--sweet child, come:--'--'With that I pulled back andwhispered--'Heavens! Would you make a mistress of me?'--Says he--'Amistress, what would'st thou be a cherubin?' Then I replied asbefore--'I am no whore, sir, '--'No, ' cries he, 'but I can quickly makethee one, I have my tools about me, sweet-heart; therefore let us loseno time, but fall to work:' this last raillery from the brisk oldgentleman, had in spite of resolution almost made me burst out into aloud laughter, when he took more gravity upon him, and cried--'Come, come, _Melinda_, why all this foolish argument at this hour in thisplace, and after so much serious courtship; believe me, I'll be kindto thee for ever;' with that he clapped fifty guineas in a purse intoone hand, and something else that shall be nameless into the other, presents that had been both worth _Melinda_'s acceptance: all thiswhile was I studying an evasion; at last, to shorten my pleasantadventure, looking round, I cried softly, 'Are you sure, sir, we aresafe--for heaven's sake step towards the garden door and see, for Iwould not be discovered for the world. '--'Nor I, ' cried he--'but donot fear, all is safe:'--'However see' (whispered I) 'that my fear maynot disturb your joys. ' With that he went toward the house, and Islipping into the grove, got immediately into the meadow, where_Alexis_ waited my coming with _Brilliard_; so I, left the expectinglover, I suppose, ranging the grove for his fled nymph, and I doubtwill fall heavy on poor _Melinda_, who shall have the guineas, eitherto restore or keep, as she and the angry Count can agree: I leave themanagement of it to her wit and conduct. 

This account I thought necessary to give my charmer, that she mightprepare _Melinda_ for the assault, who understanding all that passedbetween us, may so dispose of matters, that no discovery may happen bymistake, and I know my _Sylvia_ and she can find a thousand excusesfor the supposed _Melinda_'s flight. But, my adorable maid, mybusiness here was not to give an account of my adventure only, nor ofmy ravings, but to tell my _Sylvia_, on what my life depends; whichis, in a permission to wait on her again this ensuing night; make noexcuse, for if you do, by all I adore in heaven and earth I'll end mylife here where I received it. I will say no more, nor give your loveinstructions, but wait impatiently here the life or death of yourPHILANDER. 

_'Tis six o'clock, and yet my eyes have not closed themselves tosleep:_ Alexis _and_ Brilliard _give me hopes of a kind return tothis, and have brought their flute and violin to charm me into aslumber: if_ Sylvia _love, as I am sure she does, she will wake mewith a dear consent to see me; if not, I only wake to sleep for ever_. 

 * * * * *

_To My Fair_ CHARMER. 

When I had sealed the enclosed, my page, whom I had ordered to come tome with an account of any business extraordinary, is this morningarrived with a letter from _Cesario_, which I have sent here enclosed, that my _Sylvia_ may see how little I regard the world, or the mightyrevolution in hand, when set in competition with the least hope ofbeholding her adorable face, or hearing her charming tongue when itwhispers the soft dictates of her tender heart into my ravished soul;one moment's joy like that surmounts an age of dull empire. No, letthe busy unregarded rout perish, the cause fall or stand alone for me:give me but love, love and my _Sylvia_; I ask no more of heaven; towhich vast joy could you but imagine (O wondrous miracle of beauty!)how poor and little I esteem the valued trifles of the world, youwould in return contemn your part of it, and live with me in silentshades for ever. Oh! _Sylvia_, what hast thou this night to add to thesoul of thy

PHILANDER. 

 * * * * *

_To_ the Count of----

I'll allow you, my dear, to be very fond of so much beauty as theworld must own adorns the lovely _Sylvia_: I'll permit love too torival me in your heart, but not out-rival glory; haste then, my dear, to the advance of that, make no delay, but with the morning's dawn letme find you in my arms, where I have something that will surprise youto relate to you: you were last night expected at----It behoves you togive no umbrage to persons whose interest renders them enough jealous. We have two new advancers come in of youth and money, teach them notnegligence; be careful, and let nothing hinder you from taking horseimmediately, as you value the repose and fortune of, _My dear_, _Your_ CESARIO. 

_I called last night on you, and your page following me to my coach, whispered me--if I had any earnest business with you, he knew where tofind you; I soon imagined where, and bid him call within an hour forthis, and post with it immediately, though dark. _

 * * * * *

_To_ PHILANDER. 

Ah! What have I done, _Philander_, and where shall I hide my guiltyblushing face? Thou hast undone my eternal quiet: oh, thou hast ruin'dmy everlasting repose, and I must never, never look abroad again:curse on my face that first debauched my virtue, and taught thee howto love; curse on my tempting youth, my shape, my air, my eyes, myvoice, my hands, and every charm that did contribute to my fatal love, a lasting curse on all--but those of the adorable _Philander_, andthose----even in this raging minute, my furious passion dares notapproach with an indecent thought: no, they are sacred all, madnessitself would spare them, and shouldst thou now behold me as I sit, myhair dishevelled, ruffled and disordered, my eyes bedewing every wordI write, when for each letter I let fall a tear; then (pressed withthought) starting, I dropped my pen, and fell to rave anew, and tearthose garments whose loose negligence helped to betray me to myshameful ruin, wounding my breast, but want the resolution to wound itas I ought; which when I but propose, love stays the thought, ragingand wild as it is, the conqueror checks it, with whispering only_Philander_ to my soul; the dear name calms me to an easiness, givesme the pen into my trembling hand, and I pursue my silent softcomplaint: oh! shouldst thou see me thus, in all these suddendifferent changes of passion, thou wouldst say, _Philander_, I weremad indeed, madness itself can find no stranger motions: and I wouldcalmly ask thee, for I am calm again, how comes it, my adorable_Philander_, that thou canst possess a maid with so much madness? Whoart thyself a miracle of softness, all sweet and all serene, the mostof angel in thy composition that ever mingled with humanity; the verywords fall so gently from thy tongue, --are uttered with a voice soravishingly soft, a tone so tender and so full of love, it would charmeven frenzy, calm rude distraction, and wildness would become a silentlistener; there's such a sweet serenity in thy face, such innocenceand softness in thy eyes, should desert savages but gaze on thee, surethey would forget their native forest wildness, and be inspired witheasy gentleness: most certainly this god-like power thou hast. Whythen? Oh tell me in the agony of my soul, why must those charms thatbring tranquillity and peace to all, make me alone a wild, unseemlyraver? Why has it contrary effects on me? Oh! all I act and say isperfect madness: yet this is the least unaccountable part of my mostwretched story;--oh! I must never behold thy lovely face again, for ifI should, sure I should blush my soul away; no, no, I must not, norever more believe thy dear deluding vows; never thy charming perjuredoaths, after a violation like to this. Oh heaven, what have I done?Yet by heaven I swear, I dare not ask my soul, lest it inform me how Iwas to blame, unless that fatal minute would instruct me how torevenge my wrongs upon my heart, ----my fond betraying heart, despairand madness seize me, darkness and horror hide me from human sight, after an easiness like this;----what to yield, --to yield my honour?Betray the secrets of my virgin wishes?--My new desires, my unknownshameful flame. --Hell and Death! Where got I so much confidence? Wherelearned I the hardened and unblushing folly? To wish was such a fault, as is a crime unpardonable to own; to shew desire is such a sin invirtue as must deserve reproach from all the world; but I, unlucky I, have not only betrayed all these, but with a transport void of senseand shame, I yield to thy arms----I'll not endure the thought----byheaven! I cannot; there is something more than rage that animates thatthought: some magic spell, that in the midst of all my sense of shamekeeps me from true repentance; this angers me, and makes me know myhonour but a phantom: now I could curse again my youth and love; butoh! When I have done, alas, _Philander_, I find myself as guilty asbefore; I cannot make one firm resolve against thee, or if I do, whenI consider thee, they weigh not all one lovely hair of thine. It isall in vain, the charming cause remains, _Philander's_ still as lovelyas before; it is him I must remove from my fond eyes and heart, him Imust banish from my touch, my smell, and every other sense; by heavenI cannot bear the mighty pressure, I cannot see his eyes, and touchhis hands, smell the perfume every pore of his breathes forth, tastethy soft kisses, hear thy charming voice, but I am all on a flame: no, it is these I must exclaim on, not my youth, it is they debauch mysoul, no natural propensity in me to yield, or to admit of suchdestructive fires. Fain I would put it off, but it will not do, I amthe aggressor still; else why is not every living maid undone thatdoes but touch or see thee? Tell me why? No, the fault is in me, andthou art innocent. --Were but my soul less delicate, were it lesssensible of what it loves and likes in thee, I yet were dully happy;but oh, there is a nicety there so charmed, so apprehensive of thybeauties, as has betrayed me to unrest for ever:----yet something Iwill do to tame this lewd betrayer of my right, and it shall plead nomore in thy behalf; no more, no more disperse the joys which itconceives through every vein (cold and insensible by nature) to kindlenew desires there. --No more shall fill me with unknown curiosity; no, I will in spite of all the perfumes that dwell about thee, in spite ofall the arts thou hast of looking, of speaking, and of touching, Iwill, I say, assume my native temper, I will be calm, be cold andunconcerned, as I have been to all the World, --but to _Philander_. --The almighty power he has is unaccountable:--by yonder breaking daythat opens in the east, opens to see my shame--I swear--by that greatruler of the day, the sun, by that Almighty Power that rules themboth, I swear--I swear, _Philander_, charming lovely youth! Thou artthe first e'er kindled soft desires about my soul, thou art the firstthat ever did inform me that there was such a sort of wish about me. I thought the vanity of being beloved made up the greatest part of thesatisfaction; it was joy to see my lovers sigh about me, adore andpraise me, and increase my pride by every look, by every word andaction; and him I fancied best I favoured most, and he past for thehappy fortune; him I have suffered too to kiss and press me, to tellme all his tale of love, and sigh, which I would listen to with prideand pleasure, permitted it, and smiled him kind returns; nay, by mylife, then thought I loved him too, thought I could have been contentto have passed my life at this gay rate, with this fond hoping lover, and thought no farther than of being great, having rich coaches, shewing equipage, to pass my hours in dressing, in going to the operasand the tower, make visits where I list, be seen at balls; and havingstill the vanity to think the men would gaze and languish where Icame, and all the women envy me; I thought no farther on--but thou, _Philander_, hast made me take new measures, I now can thinkof nothing but of thee, I loathe the sound of love from any othervoice, and conversation makes my soul impatient, and does not onlydull me into melancholy, but perplexes me out of all humour, out ofall patient sufferance, and I am never so well pleased when from_Philander_, as when I am retired, and curse my character and figurein the world, because it permits me not to prevent being visited; onethought of thee is worth the world's enjoyment, I hate to dress, Ihate to be agreeable to any eyes but thine; I hate the noise ofequipage and crowds, and would be more content to live with thee insome lone shaded cottage, than be a queen, and hindered by thatgrandeur one moment's conversation with _Philander_: may'st thoudespise and loathe me, a curse the greatest that I can invent, if thisbe any thing but real honest truth. No, no, _Philander_, I find Inever lov'd till now, I understood it not, nor knew what those sighsand pressings meant which others gave me; yet every speaking glancethy eyes put on, inform my soul what it is they plead and languishfor: if you but touch my hand, my breath grows faint and short, myblood glows in my face, and runs with an unusual warmth through everyvein, and tells my heart what it is _Philander_ ails, when he fallssighing on my bosom; oh then, I fear, I answer every look, and everysigh and touch, in the same silent but intelligible language, andunderstood, I fear, too well by thee: till now I never feared love asa criminal. Oh tell me not, mistaken foolish maids, true love isinnocent, ye cold, ye dull, ye unconsidering lovers; though I haveoften heard it from the grave and wise, and preached myself thatdoctrine: I now renounce it all, it is false, by heaven! it is false, for now I love, and know it all a fiction; yes, and love so, as neverany woman can equal me in love, my soul being all composed (as I haveoften said) of softer materials. Nor is it fancy sets my rates onbeauty, there is an intrinsic value in thy charms, who surely none butI am able to understand, and to those that view thee not with myjudging eyes, ugliness fancied would appear the same, and please aswell. If all could love or judge like me, why does _Philander_ pass sounregarded by a thousand women, who never sighed for him? What makes_Myrtilla_, who possesses all, looks on thee, feels thy kisses, hearsthee speak, and yet wants sense to know how blessed she is, it is wantof judgement all; and how, and how can she that judges ill, love well?

Granting my passion equal to its object, you must allow it infinite, and more in me than any other woman, by how much more my soul iscomposed of tenderness; and yet I say I own, for I may own it, nowheaven and you are witness of my shame, I own with all this love, withall this passion, so vast, so true, and so unchangeable, that I havewishes, new, unwonted wishes, at every thought of thee I find astrange disorder in my blood, that pants and burns in every vein, andmakes me blush, and sigh, and grow impatient, ashamed and angry; butwhen I know it the effects of love, I am reconciled, and wish and sighanew; for when I sit and gaze upon thy eyes, thy languishing, thylovely dying eyes, play with thy soft white hand, and lay my glowingcheeks to thine----Oh God! What language can express my transport! Allthat is tender, all that is soft desire, seizes every trembling limb, and it is with pain concealed. --Yes, yes, _Philander_, it is the fataltruth, since thou hast found it, I confess it too, and yet I love theedearly; long, long it was that I essayed to hide the guilty flame, iflove be guilt; for I confess I did dissemble a coldness which I wasnot mistress of: there lies a woman's art, there all her boastedvirtue, it is but well dissembling, and no more--but mine, alas, isgone, for ever fled; this, this feeble guard that should secure myhonour, thou hast betrayed, and left it quite defenceless. Ah, what'sa woman's honour when it is so poorly guarded! No wonder that youconquer with such ease, when we are only safe by the mean arts of basedissimulation, an ill as shameful as that to which we fall. Oh sillyrefuge! What foolish nonsense fond custom can persuade: Yet so it is;and she that breaks her laws, loses her fame, her honour and esteem. Oh heavens! How quickly lost it is! Give me, ye powers, my fame, andlet me be a fool; let me retain my virtue and my honour, and be a dullinsensible--But, oh! Where is it? I have lost it all; it isirrecoverably lost: yes, yes, ye charming perjured man, it is gone, and thou hast quite undone me. --

What though I lay extended on my bed, undressed, unapprehensive of myfate, my bosom loose and easy of access, my garments ready, thin andwantonly put on, as if they would with little force submit to the fondstraying hand: what then, _Philander_, must you take the advantage?Must you be perjured because I was tempting? It is true, I let you inby stealth by night, whose silent darkness favoured your treachery;but oh, _Philander_, were not your vows as binding by a glimmeringtaper, as if the sun with all his awful light had been a looker on? Iurged your vows as you pressed on, --but oh, I fear it was in such away, so faintly and so feebly I upbraided you, as did but more advanceyour perjuries. Your strength increas'd, but mine alas declin'd;'tillI quite fainted in your arms, left you triumphant lord of all: no moremy faint denials do persuade, no more my trembling hands resist yourforce, unregarded lay the treasure which you toil'd for, betrayed andyielded to the lovely conqueror--but oh tormenting, ----when you sawthe store, and found the prize no richer, with what contempt, (yesfalse, dear man) with what contempt you view'd the unvalu'd trophy:what, despised! Was all you call a heaven of joy and beauty exposed toview, and then neglected? Were all your prayers heard, your wishesgranted, and your toils rewarded, the trembling victim ready for thesacrifice, and did you want devotion to perform it? And did you thusreceive the expected blessing?----Oh--by heaven I'll never see theemore, and it will be charity to thee, for thou hast no excuse in storethat can convince my opinion that I am hated, loathed, --I cannot bearthat thought--or if I do, it shall only serve to fortify my fixedresolve never to see thee more. --And yet I long to hear thy falseexcuse, let it be quickly then; it is my disdain invites thee--tostrengthen which, there needs no more than that you let me hear yourpoor defence. ----But it is a tedious time to that slow hour wherein Idare permit thee, but hope not to incline my soul to love: no, I amyet safe if I can stop but here, but here be wise, resolve and bemyself. 

SYLVIA. 

 * * * * *

_To_ PHILANDER. 

As my page was coming with the enclosed, he met _Alexis_ at the gatewith yours, and who would not depart without an answer to it;--to goor stay is the question. Ah, Philander! Why do you press a heart tooready to yield to love and you! Alas, I fear you guess too well myanswer, and your own soul might save me the blushing trouble of areply. I am plunged in, past hope of a retreat; and since my fate haspointed me out for ruin, I cannot fall more gloriously. Take then, _Philander_, to your dear arms, a maid that can no longer resist, whois disarmed of all defensive power: she yields, she yields, and doesconfess it too; and sure she must be more than mortal, that can holdout against thy charms and vows. Since I must be undone, and give allaway; I'll do it generously, and scorn all mean reserves: I will bebrave in love, and lavish all; nor shall _Philander_ think I love himwell, unless I do. Take, charming victor, then, what your own merits, and what love has given you; take, take, at last, the dear reward ofall your sighs and tears, your vows and sufferings. But since, _Philander_, it is an age to night, and till the approach of thosedear silent hours, thou knowest I dare not give thee admittance; I doconjure thee, go to _Cesario_, whom I find too pressing, not tobelieve the concerns great; and so jealous I am of thy dear safety, that every thing alarms my fears: oh! satisfy them then and go, it isearly yet, and if you take horse immediately, you will be there byeight this morning; go, I conjure you; for though it is an unspeakablesatisfaction to know you are so near me, yet I prefer your safety andhonour to all considerations else. You may soon dispatch your affair, and render yourself time enough on the place appointed, which is whereyou last night waited, and it will be at least eight at night beforeit is possible to bring you to my arms. Come in your chariot, and donot heat yourself with riding; have a care of me and my life, in thepreservation of all I love. Be sure you go, and do not, my_Philander_, out of a punctilio of love, neglect your dearsafety----go then, _Philander_, and all the gods of love preserve andattend thee on thy way, and bring thee safely back to

SYLVIA. 

 * * * * *

_To_ SYLVIA. 

Oh thou most charming of thy sex! Thou lovely dear delight of mytransported soul! thou everlasting treasure of my heart! What hastthou done? Given me an over-joy, that fails but very little ofperforming what grief's excess had almost finished before: eternalblessings on thee, for a goodness so divine, oh, thou most excellent, and dearest of thy sex! I know not what to do, or what to say. I amnot what I was, I do not speak, nor walk, nor think as I was wont todo; sure the excess of joy is far above dull sense, or formalthinking, it cannot stay for ceremonious method. I rave with pleasure, rage with the dear thought of coming ecstasy. Oh _Sylvia_, _Sylvia_, _Sylvia_! My soul, my vital blood, and without which I could as wellsubsist--oh, my adorable, my _Sylvia_! Methinks I press thee, kissthee, hear thee sigh, behold thy eyes, and all the wondrous beauty ofthy face; a solemn joy has spread itself through every vein, sensiblythrough every artery of my heart, and I can think of nothing but of_Sylvia_, the lovely _Sylvia_, the blooming flowing _Sylvta_! Andshall I see thee? Shall I touch thy hands, and press thy dear, thycharming body in my arms, and taste a thousand joys, a thousandravishments? Oh God! shall I? Oh _Sylvia_, say; but thou hast saidenough to make me mad, and I, forgetful of thy safety and my own, shall bring thy wild adoring slave to _Bellfont_, and throw him at thyfeet, to pay his humble gratitude for this great condescension, thisvast bounty. 

Ah, _Sylvia_! How shall I live till night? And you impose too cruellyupon me, in conjuring me to go to _Cesario_; alas! Does _Sylvia_ knowto what she exposes her _Philander_? Whose joy is so transporting, great, that when he comes into the grave cabal, he must betray thestory of his heart, and, in lieu of the mighty business there in hand, be raving still on _Sylvia_, telling his joy to all the amazedlisteners, and answering questions that concern our great affair, withsomething of my love; all which will pass for madness, and undo me:no, give me leave to rave in silence, and unseen among the trees, they'll humour my disease, answer my murmuring joy, and echoes flatterit, repeat thy name, repeat that _Sylvia_'s mine! and never hurt herfame; while the cabals, business and noisy town will add confusion tomy present transport, and make me mad indeed: no, let me alone, thousacred lovely creature, let me be calm and quiet here, and tell allthe insensibles I meet in the woods what _Sylvia_ has this happyminute destined me: oh, let me record it on every bark, on every oakand beech, that all the world may wonder at my fortune, and bless thegenerous maid; let it grow up to ages that shall come, that they mayknow the story of our loves, and how a happy youth, they called_Philander_, was once so blest by heaven as to possess the charming, the adored and loved by all, the glorious _Sylvia_! a maid, the mostdivine that ever graced a story; and when the nymphs would look for anexample of love and constancy, let them point out _Philander_ to theirdoubted swains, and cry, 'Ah! love but as the young _Philander_ did, and then be fortunate, and then reap all your wishes:' and when theshepherd would upbraid his nymph, let him but cry, --'See here what_Sylvia_ did to save the young _Philander_;' but oh! There never willbe such another nymph as _Sylvia_; heaven formed but one to shew theworld what angels are, and she was formed for me, yes she was--in whomI would not quit my glorious interest to reign a monarch here, or anyboasted gilded thing above! Take all, take all, ye gods, and give mebut this happy coming night! Oh, _Sylvia, Sylvia_! By all thy promisedjoys I am undone if any accident should ravish this night from me:this night! No not for a lease of years to all eternity would I throwthee away: oh! I am all flame, all joyful fire and softness; methinksit is heaven where-ever I look round me, air where I tread, andravishing music when I speak, because it is all of _Sylvia_----let mealone, oh let me cool a little, or I shall by an excess of joyfulthought lose all my hoped for bliss. Remove a little from me; go, my_Sylvia_, you are so excessive sweet, so wondrous dazzling, you pressmy senses even to pain--away--let me take air--let me recover breath:oh let me lay me down beneath some cooling shade, near some refreshingcrystal murmuring spring, and fan the gentle air about me. Isuffocate, I faint with this close loving, I must allay my joy or beundone--I will read thy cruel letters, or I will think of some sadmelancholy hour wherein thou hast dismissed me despairing from thypresence: or while you press me now to be gone with so muchearnestness, you have some lover to receive and entertain; perhaps itis only for the vanity to hear him tell his nauseous passion to you, breathe on your lovely face, and daub your garments with his fulsomeembrace; but oh, by heaven, I cannot think that thought! And thou hastsworn thou canst not suffer it--if I should find thee false--but it isimpossible. --Oh! Should I find _Foscario_ visit thee, him whom thyparents favour, I should undo you all, by heaven I should--but thouhast sworn, what need _Philander_ more? Yes, _Sylvia_, thou hast swornand called heaven's vengeance down whenever thou gavest a look, or adear smile in love to that pretending fop: yet from his mighty fortunethere is danger in him--What makes that thought torment me now?--Begone, for _Sylvia_ loves me, and will preserve my life----

I am not able, my adorable charmer, to obey your commands in goingfrom the sight of happy _Bellfont_; no, let the great wheel of thevast design roll on----or for ever stand still, for I will not aid itsmotion to leave the mightier business of my love unfinished; no, letfortune and the duller fools toil on----for I'll not bate a minute ofmy joys with thee to save the world, much less so poor a parcel of it;and sure there is more solid pleasure even in these expecting hours Iwait to snatch my bliss, than to be lord of all the universe withoutit: then let me wait, my _Sylvia_, in those melancholy shades thatpart _Bellfont_ from _Dorillus_'s farm; perhaps my _Sylvia_ may walkthat way so unattended, that we might meet and lose ourselves for afew moments in those intricate retreats: ah _Sylvia_! I am dying withthat thought----oh heavens! What cruel destiny is mine? Whose fatalcircumstances do not permit me to own my passion, and lay claim to_Sylvia_, to take her without control to shades and palaces, to livefor ever with her, to gaze for ever on her, to eat, to loll, to rise, to play, to sleep, to act over all the pleasures and the joys of lifewith her--but it is in vain I rave, in vain employ myself in thefool's barren business, wishing--this thought has made me sad asdeath: oh, _Sylvia_! I can never be truly happy--adieu, employ thyselfin writing to me, and remember my life bears date but only with thyfaith and love. 

PHILANDER. 

_Try, my adorable, what you can do to meet me in the wood thisafternoon, for there I will live to-day. _

 * * * * *

_To_ PHILANDER. 

Obstinate _Philander_, I conjure you by all your vows, by all yoursacred love, by those dear hours this happy night designed in favourof you, to go without delay to _Cesario_; 'twill be unsafe to disobeya prince in his jealous circumstances. The fatigue of the journeycannot be great, and you well know the torment of my fears! Oh! Ishall never be happy, or think you safe, till you have quitted thisfatal interest: go, my _Philander_----and remember whatever toils youtake will be rewarded at night in the arms of

SYLVIA. 

 * * * * *

_To_ SYLVIA. 

Whatever toils you take shall be rewarded in the arms of_Sylvia_----by heaven, I am inspired to act wonders: yes, _Sylvia_, yes, my adorable maid, I am gone, I fly as swift as lightning, or thesoft darts of love shot from thy charming eyes, and I can hardly stayto say----adieu----

 * * * * *

_To_ the Lady----

_Dear Child_, Long foreseeing the misery whereto you must arrive, by this fatalcorrespondence with my unhappy lord, I have often, with tears andprayers, implored you to decline so dangerous a passion: I have neveryet acquainted our parents with your misfortunes, but I fear I must atlast make use of their authority for the prevention of your ruin. Itis not my dearest child, that part of this unhappy story that relatesto me, that grieves me, but purely that of thine. 

Consider, oh young noble maid, the infamy of being a prostitute! Andyet the act itself in this fatal amour is not the greatest sin, butthe manner, which carries an unusual horror with it; for it is abrother too, my child, as well as a lover, one that has lain by thyunhappy sister's side so many tender years, by whom he has a dear andlovely off-spring, by which he has more fixed himself to thee byrelation and blood: consider this, oh fond heedless girl! And suffernot a momentary joy to rob thee of thy eternal fame, me of my eternalrepose, and fix a brand upon our noble house, and so undo usall. ----Alas, consider, after an action so shameful, thou must obscurethyself in some remote corner of the world, where honesty and honournever are heard of: no, thou canst not shew thy face, but it will bepointed at for something monstrous; for a hundred ages may not producea story so lewdly infamous and loose as thine. Perhaps (fond as youare) you imagine the sole joy of being beloved by him, will atone forthose affronts and reproaches you will meet with in the censuringworld: but, child, remember and believe me, there is no lasting faithin sin; he that has broke his vows with heaven and me, will be againperjured to heaven and thee, and all the world!----He once thought meas lovely, lay at my feet, and sighed away his soul, and told suchpiteous stories of his sufferings, such sad, such mournful tales ofhis departed rest, his broken heart and everlasting love, that sure Ithought it had been a sin not to have credited his charming perjuries;in such a way he swore, with such a grace he sighed, so artfully hemoved, so tenderly he looked. Alas, dear child, then all he said wasnew, unusual with him, never told before, now it is a beaten road, itis learned by heart, and easily addressed to any fond believing woman, the tattered, worn out fragments of my trophies, the dregs of what Ilong since drained from off his fickle heart; then it was fine, thenit was brisk and new, now palled and dull by being repeated often. Think, my child, what your victorious beauty merits, the victim of aheart unconquered by any but your eyes: alas, he has been my captive, my humble whining slave, disdain to put him on your fetters now; alas, he can say no new thing of his heart to thee, it is love at secondhand, worn out, and all its gaudy lustre tarnished; besides, my child, if thou hadst no religion binding enough, no honour that could staythy fatal course, yet nature should oblige thee, and give a check tothe unreasonable enterprise. The griefs and dishonour of our nobleparents, who have been eminent for virtue and piety, oh suffer themnot to be regarded in this censuring world as the most unhappy of allthe race of old nobility; thou art the darling child, the joy of all, the last hope left, the refuge of their sorrow, for they, alas, havehad but unkind stars to influence their unadvised off-spring; no wantof virtue in their education, but this last blow of fate must strikethem dead; think, think of this, my child, and yet retire from ruin;haste, fly from destruction which pursues thee fast; haste, haste andsave thy parents and a sister, or what is more dear, thy fame; minehas already received but too many desperate wounds, and all through myunkind lord's growing passion for thee, which was most fatally foundedon my ruin, and nothing but my ruin could advance it; and when, mysister, thou hast run thy race, made thyself loathed, undone andinfamous as hell, despis'd, scorn'd and abandon'd by all, lampoon'd, perhaps diseas'd; this faithless man, this cause of all will leavethee too, grow weary of thee, nauseated by use; he may perhapsconsider what sins, what evils, and what inconveniencies and shamesthou'st brought him to, and will not be the last shall loathe and hatethee: for though youth fancy it have a mighty race to run of pleasingvice and vanity, the course will end, the goal will be arrived to atthe last, where they will sighing stand, look back, and view thelength of precious time they've fool'd away; when traversed over withhonour and discretion, how glorious were the journey, and with whatjoy the wearied traveller lies down and basks beneath the shades thatend the happy course. 

Forgive, dear child, this advice, and pursue it; it is the effect ofmy pity, not anger; nor could the name of rival ever yet have power tobanish that of sister from my soul----farewell, remember me; prayheaven thou hast not this night made a forfeit of thy honour, and thatthis which comes from a tender bleeding heart may have the fortune toinspire thee with grace to avoid all temptations for the future, sincethey must end in sorrows which is the eternal prayer of, _Dearest child, _

_Your affectionate Sister. _

 * * * * *

_To_ PHILANDER. 

Ask me not, my dearest brother, the reason of this sudden change, askme no more from whence proceeds this strange coldness, or why thisalteration; it is enough my destiny has not decreed me for_Philander_: alas, I see my error, and looking round about me, findnothing but approaching horror and confusion in my pursuit of love: ohwhither was I going, to what dark paths, to what everlasting shadeshad smiling love betray'd me, had I pursued him farther? But I at lasthave subdued his force, and the fond charmer shall no more renew hisarts and flatteries; for I'm resolv'd as heaven, as fix'd as fate anddeath, and I conjure you trouble my repose no more; for if you do(regardless of my honour, which if you loved you would preserve) Iwill do a deed shall free me from your importunities, that shall amazeand cool your vicious flame. No more--remember you have a noble wife, companion of your vows, and I have honour, both which are worthpreserving, and for which, though you want generous love, you willfind neither that nor courage wanting in _Sylvia_. 

 * * * * *

_To_ SYLVIA. 

Yes, my adorable _Sylvia_, I will pursue you no farther; only for allmy pains, for all my sufferings, for my tormenting sleepless nights, and thoughtful anxious days; for all my faithless hopes, my fears, mysighs, my prayers and my tears, for my unequalled and unboundedpassion, and my unwearied pursuits in love, my never-dying flame, andlastly, for my death; I only beg, in recompense for all, this lastfavour from your pity; That you will deign to view the bleeding woundthat pierced the truest heart that ever fell a sacrifice to love; youwill find my body lying beneath that spreading oak, so sacred to_Philander_, since it was there he first took into his greedy ravishedsoul, the dear, the soft confession of thy passion, though nowforgotten and neglected all--make what haste you can, you will findthere stretched out the mangled carcase of the lost

PHILANDER. 

_Ah_ Sylvia! _Was it for this that I was sent in such haste away thismorning to_ Cesario_? Did I for this neglect the world, our greataffair, and all that Prince's interest, and fly back to_ Bellfont _onthe wings of love? Where in lieu of receiving a dear blessing from thyhand, do I find----never see me more--good heaven--but, with my life, all my complaints are ended; only it would be, some ease, even indeath, to know what happy rival it is has armed thy cruel handagainst_ Philander's _heart_. 

 * * * * *

_To_ PHILANDER. 

Stay, I conjure thee, stay thy sacrilegious hand; for the least woundit gives the lord of all my wishes, I'll double on my breast athousand fold; stay then, by all thy vows, thy love, and all thyhopes, I swear thou hast this night a full recompense of all thy painsfrom yielding _Sylvia_; I do conjure thee stay----for when the newsarrives thou art no more, this poor, this lost, abandoned heart ofmine shall fall a victim to thy cruelty: no, live, my _Philander_, Iconjure thee, and receive all thou canst ask, and all that can begiven by

SYLVIA. 

 * * * * *

_To_ PHILANDER. 

Oh, my charming _Philander_! How very ill have you recompensed my lastlost commands? Which were that you should live; and yet at the samemoment, while you are reading of the dear obligation, and while mypage was waiting your kind return, you desperately exposed your lifeto the mercy of this innocent rival, betraying unadvisedly at the sametime my honour, and the secret of your love, and where to kill or tobe killed, had been almost equally unhappy: it was well my page toldme you disarmed him in this rencounter; yet you, he says, are wounded, some sacred drops of blood are fallen to the earth and lost, the leastof which is precious enough to ransom captive queens: oh! Haste_Philander_, to my arms for cure, I die with fear there may bedanger----haste, and let me bathe, the dear, the wounded part infloods of tears, lay to my warm lips, and bind it with my torn hair:oh! _Philander_, I rave with my concern for thee, and am ready tobreak all laws of decency and duty, and fly without considering, tothy succour, but that I fear to injure thee much more by thediscovery, which such an unadvised absence would make. Pray heaven theunlucky adventure reach not _Bellfont; Foscario_ has no reason toproclaim it, and thou art too generous to boast the conquest, and mypage was the only witness, and he is as silent and as secret as thegrave: but why, _Philander_, was he sent me back without reply? Whatmeant that cruel silence----say, my _Philander_, will you not obeyme?----Will you abandon me? Can that dear tongue be perjured? And canyou this night disappoint your _Sylvia_? What have I done, ohobstinately cruel, irreconcileable----what, for my first offence? Alittle poor resentment and no more? A little faint care of my gaspinghonour, could that displease so much? Besides I had a cause, which youshall see; a letter that would cool love's hottest fires, and turn itto devotion; by heaven it was such a check----such a surprise----butyou yourself shall judge, if after that I could say less, than bideternally farewell to love--at least to thee--but I recanted soon; onesad dear word, one soft resenting line from thee, gained love the dayagain, and I despised the censures of the duller world: yes, yes, andI confessed you had overcome, and did this merit no reply? I asked theboy a thousand times what you said, how and in what manner youreceived it, chid him, and laid your silent fault on him, till he withtears convinced me, and said he found you hastening to the grove, --andwhen he gave you my commands----you looked upon him with such a wildand fixed regard, surveying him all over while you were openingit----as argued some unusual motion in you; then cried, 'Be gone--Icannot answer flattery'----Good heaven, what can you mean? But 'ere hegot to the farther end of the grove, where still you walked a solemndeath-like pace, he saw _Foscario_ pass him unattended, and lookingback saw your rencounter, saw all that happened between you, then ranto your assistance just as you parted; still you were roughly sullen, and neither took notice of his proffered service, nor that you neededit, although you bled apace; he offered you his aid to tie your woundsup----but you replied--'Be gone, and do not trouble me'----Oh, couldyou imagine I could live with this neglect? Could you, my _Philander_?Oh what would you have me do! If nothing but my death or ruin cansuffice for my atonement, I will sacrifice either with joy; yes, I'llproclaim my passion aloud, proclaim it at _Bellfont_, own the dearcriminal flame, fly to my Philander's aid and be undone; for thus Icannot, no, I will not live, I rave, I languish, faint and die withpain; say that you live, oh, say but that you live, say you are comingto the meadow behind the garden-grove, in order to your approach to myarms: oh, swear that all your vows are true; oh, swear that you are_Sylvia's_; and in return, I will swear that I am yours withoutreserve, whatever fate is destined for your

SYLVIA. 

_I die with impatience, either to see or hear from you; I fear it isyet too soon for the first----oh therefore save me with the last, or Ishall rave, and wildly betray all by coming to_ Dorillus _his farm, orseeking you where-ever you cruelly have hid yourself from_

SYLVIA. 

 * * * * *

_To_ SYLVIA. 

Ah, _Sylvia_, how have you in one day destroyed that repose I havebeen designing so many years! Oh, thou false----but wondrous faircreature! Why did heaven ordain so much beauty, and so much perfidy, so much excellent wit, and so much cunning, (things inconsistent inany but in _Sylvia_) in one divine frame, but to undo mankind: yes, _Sylvia_, thou wert born to murder more believing men than the unhappyand undone _Philander_. Tell me, thou charming hypocrite, why hastthou thus deluded me? Why? oh, why was I made the miserable object ofthy fatal vow-breach? What have I done, thou lovely, fickle maid, thatthou shouldst be my murderer? And why dost thou call me from the gravewith such dear soft commands as would awake the very quiet dead, totorture me anew, after my eyes (curse on their fatal sense) were toosure witnesses of thy infidelity? Oh, fickle maid, how much more kindit had been to have sent me down to earth, with plain heart-breakingtruth, than a mean subtle falsehood, that has undone thy credit in mysoul? Truth, though it were cruel, had been generous in thee; thoughthou wert perjured, false, forsworn----thou shouldst not have added toit that yet baser sin of treachery: you might have been provoked tohave killed your friend, but it were base to stab him unawares, defenceless and unwarned; smile in my face, and strike me to theheart; soothe me with all the tenderest marks of my passion----nay, with an invitation too, that would have gained a credit in one thathad been jilted over the world, flattered and ruined by all thycozening sex, and all to send me vain and pleased away, only to gain aday to entertain another lover in. Oh, fantastic woman! destructiveglorious thing, what needed this deceit? Hadst thou not with unwontedindustry persuaded me to have hasted to _Cesario_, by heaven, I haddully lived the tedious day in traversing the flowery meads and silentgroves, laid by some murmuring spring, had sigh'd away the oftencounted hours, and thought on _Sylvia_, till the blessed minute of myravishing approach to her; had been a fond, believing and imposed oncoxcomb, and never had dreamt the treachery, never seen the snake thatbasked beneath the gay, the smiling flowers; securely thou hadstcozened me, reaped the new joys, and made my rival sport at theexpense of all my happiness: yes, yes, your hasty importunity firstgave me jealousy, made me impatient with _Cesario_, and excuse myselfto him by a hundred inventions; neglected all to hasten back, whereall my joys, where all my killing fears and torments resided--but whenI came----how was I welcomed? With your confirming billet; yes, _Sylvia_, how! Let _Dorillus_ inform you, between whose arms I felldead, shame on me, dead--and the first thought my soul conceived whenit returned, was, not to die in jest. I answered your commands, andhastened to the grove, where----by all that is sacred, by thyself Iswear (a dearer oath than heaven and earth can furnish me with) I didresolve to die; but oh, how soon my soft, my silent passion turned toloud rage, rage easier to be borne, to dire despair, to fury andrevenge; for there I saw, _Foscario_, my young, my fair, my rich andpowerful rival, he hasted through the grove, all warm and glowing fromthe fair false one's arms; the blushes which thy eyes had kindled werefresh upon his cheeks, his looks were sparkling with the new-blownfire, his heart so briskly burnt with a glad, peaceful smile dressedall his face, tricked like a bridegroom, while he perfum'd the air ashe passed through it----none but the man that loves and dotes like meis able to express my sense of rage: I quickly turned the sword frommy own heart to send it to his elevated one, giving him only timeto----draw--that was the word, and I confess your spark was wondrousready, brisk with success, vain with your new-given favours, he onlycried--'If _Sylvia_ be the quarrel--I am prepared----' And hemaintained your cause with admirable courage I confess, though chanceor fortune luckily gave me his sword, which I would fain have renderedback, and that way would have died; but he refused to arm his handanew against the man that had not took advantage of him, and thus weparted: then it was that malice supported me with life, and told me Ishould scorn to die for so perfidious and so ruinous a creature; butcharming and bewitching still, it was then I borrowed so much calmnessof my lessening anger to read the billet over, your page had broughtme, which melted all the rough remaining part of rage away into tamelanguishment: ah, _Sylvia_! This heart of mine was never formed bynature to hold out long in stubborn sullenness; I am already on theexcusing part, and fain would think thee innocent and just; deceive meprettily, I know thou canst soothe my fond heart, and ask how it couldharbour a faithless thought of _Sylvia_--do--flatter me, protest alittle, swear my rival saw thee not, say he was there by chance----sayany thing; or if thou sawest him, say with how cold a look he wasreceived----Oh, _Sylvia_, calm my soul, deceive it flatter it, and Ishall still believe and love thee on----yet shouldest thou tell metruth, that thou art false, by heaven I do adore thee so, I stillshould love thee on; should I have seen thee clasp him in thy arms, print kisses on his cheeks and lips, and more----so fondly and sodotingly I love, I think I should forgive thee; for I swear by all thepowers that pity frail mortality, there is no joy, no life, no heavenwithout thee! Be false! Be cruel, perjured, infamous, yet still I mustadore thee; my soul was formed of nothing but of love, and all thatlove, and all that soul is _Sylvia_'s; but yet, since thou hast framedme an excuse, be kind and carry it on;----to be deluded well, as thoucanst do it, will be the same to innocence, as loving: I shall notfind the cheat: I will come then----and lay myself at thy feet, andseek there that repose, that dear content, which is not to be found inthis vast world besides; though much of my heart's joy thou hastabated; and fixed a sadness in my soul that will not easilyvanish----oh _Sylvia_, take care of me, for I am in thy power, mylife, my fame, my soul are all in thy hands, be tender of the victims, and remember if any action of thy life should shew a fading love, thatvery moment I perceive the change, you shall find dead at your feetthe abandoned

PHILANDER. 

_Sad as death, I am going towards the meadow, in order to my approachtowards_ Sylvia, _the world affording no repose to me, but when I amwhere the dear charmer is_. 

 * * * * *

_To_ Philander _in the Meadow_. 

And can you be jealous of me, _Philander_? I mean so poorly jealous asto believe me capable of falsehood, of vow-breach, and what is worse, of loving any thing but the adorable _Philander_? I could not oncebelieve so cruel a thought could have entered into the imaginations ofa soul so entirely possessed with _Sylvia_, and so great a judge oflove. Abandon me, reproach me, hate me, scorn me, whenever I harbourany thing in mind so destructive to my repose and thine. Can I_Philander_, give you a greater proof of my passion; of my faithful, never-dying passion, than being undone for you? Have I any otherprospect in all this soft adventure, but shame, dishonour, reproach, eternal infamy and ever-lasting destruction, even of soul and body? Itremble with fear of future punishment; but oh, love will have nodevotion (mixed with his ceremonies) to any other deity; and yet, alas, I might have loved another, and have been saved, or any maid but_Sylvia_ might have possessed without damnation. But it is a brother Ipursue, it is a sister gives her honour up, and none but _Canace_, that ever I read in story, was ever found so wretched as to love abrother with so criminal a flame, and possibly I may meet her fate. Ihave a father too as great as _Aeolus_, as angry and revengeful wherehis honour is concerned; and you found, my dearest brother, how nearyou were last night to a discovery in the garden. I have some reasontoo to fear this night's adventure, for as ill fate would have it(loaded with other thoughts) I told not _Melinda_ of your adventurelast night with _Monsieur_ the Count, who meeting her early thismorning, had like to have made a discovery, if he have not really soalready; she strove to shun him, but he cried out--'_Melinda_, youcannot fly me by light, as you did last night in the dark--'She turnedand begged his pardon, for neither coming nor designing to come, sinceshe had resolved never to violate her vows to _Alexis_: 'Not coming?'cried he, 'not returning again, you meant, _Melinda_; secure of myheart and my purse, you fled with both. ' _Melinda_, whose honour wasnow concerned, and not reminding your escape in her likeness, blushing, she sharply denied the fact, and with a disdain that hadlaid aside all respect, left him; nor can it be doubted, but hefancied (if she spoke truth) there was some other intrigue of lovecarried on at _Bellfont_. Judge, my charming _Philander_, if I havenot reason to be fearful of thy safety, and my fame; and to be jealousthat so wise a man as _Monsieur_ did not take that parly to be heldwith a spirit last night, or that it was an apparition he courted: butif there be no boldness like that of love, nor courage like that of alover; sure there never was so great a heroine as _Sylvia_. Undaunted, I resolve to stand the shock of all, since it is impossible for me toleave _Philander_ any doubt or jealousy that I can dissipate, andheaven knows how far I was from any thought of seeing _Foscario_, whenI urged _Philander_ to depart. I have to clear my innocence, sent theethe letter I received two hours after thy absence, which falling intomy mother's hands, whose favourite he is, he had permission to makehis visit, which within an hour he did; but how received by me, bethou the judge, whenever it is thy fate to be obliged to entertainsome woman to whom thy soul has an entire aversion. I forced acomplaisance against my nature, endured his racking courtship with afortitude that became the great heart that bears thy sacred image; asmartyrs do, I suffered without murmuring, or the least sign of thepain I endured--it is below the dignity of my mighty passion tojustify it farther, let it plead its own cause, it has a thousand waysto do it, and those all such as cannot be resisted, cannot be doubted, especially this last proof of sacrificing to your repose the nevermore to be doubted

SYLVIA. 

_About an hour hence I shall expect you to advance. _

 * * * * *

_To_ the Lady----

_Madam, _

'Tis not always the divine graces wherewith heaven has adorned yourresplendent beauties, that can maintain the innumerable conquests theygain, without a noble goodness; which may make you sensiblycompassionate the poor and forlorn captives you have undone: but, mostfair of your sex, it is I alone that have a destiny more cruel andsevere, and find myself wounded from your very frowns, and secured aslave as well as made one; the very scorn from those triumphant stars, your eyes, have the same effects, as if they shined with the continualsplendour of ravishing smiles; and I can no more shun their killinginfluence, than their all-saving aspects: and I shall expirecontentedly, since I fall by so glorious a fate, if you will vouchsafeto pronounce my doom from that store-house of perfection, your mouth, from lips that open like the blushing rose, strow'd over with morningdew, and from a breath sweeter than holy incense; in order to which, Iapproach you, most excellent beauty, with this most humble petition, that you will deign to permit me to throw my unworthy self before thethrone of your mercy, there to receive the sentence of my life ordeath; a happiness, though incomparably too great for so mean avassal, yet with that reverence and awe I shall receive it, as I wouldthe sentence of the gods, and which I will no more resist than I wouldthe thunderbolts of _Jove_, or the revenge of angry _Juno_: for, madam, my immense passion knows no medium between life | and death, and as I never had the presumption to aspire to the glory of thefirst, I am not so abject as to fear I am wholly deprived of the gloryof the last: I have too long lain convicted, extend your mercy, andput me now out of pain: you have often wrecked me to confess mypromethean sin; spare the cruel vulture of despair, take him from myheart in pity, and either by killing words, or blasting lightning fromthose refulgent eyes, pronounce the death of, _Madam, _

_Your admiring slave_, FOSCARIO. 

 * * * * *

_To_ SYLVIA. 

_My Everlasting Charmer_, I am convinc'd and pleas'd, my fears are vanish'd, and a heaven ofsolid joy is opened to my view, and I have nothing now in prospect butangel-brightness, glittering youth, dazzling beauty, charming sounds, and ravishing touches, and all around me ecstasies of pleasure, inconceivable transports without conclusion; _Mahomet_ never fanciedsuch a heaven, not all his paradise promised such lasting felicity, orever provided there the recompense of such a maid as _Sylvia_, such abewitching form, such soft, such glorious eyes, where the soul speaksand dances, and betrays love's secrets in every killing glance, aface, where every motion, every feature sweetly languishes, a neck alltempting--and her lovely breast inviting presses from the eager lips;such hands, such clasping arms, so white, so soft and slender! No, norone of all his heavenly enjoyments, though promised years of faintingin one continued ecstasy, can make one moment's joy with charming_Sylvia_. Oh, I am wrapt (with bare imagination) with a much vasterpleasure than any other dull appointment can dispense--oh, thoublessing sent from heaven to ease my toils of life! Thou sacred deardelight of my fond doting heart, oh, whither wilt thou lead me, towhat vast heights of love? Into extremes as fatal and as dangerous asthose excesses were that rendered me so cold in your opinion. Oh, _Sylvia, Sylvia_, have a care of me, manage my overjoyed soul, and allits eager passions, chide my fond heart, be angry if I faint upon thybosom, and do not with thy tender voice recall me, a voice that killsout-right, and calls my fleeting soul out of its habitation: lay notsuch charming lips to my cold cheeks, but let me lie extended at thyfeet untouched, unsighed upon, unpressed with kisses: oh, change thosetender, trembling words of love into rough sounds and noisesunconcerned, and when you see me dying, do not call my soul to minglewith thy sighs; yet shouldst thou abate one word, one look or tear, byheaven I should be mad; oh, never let me live to see declension in thylove! No, no, my charmer, I cannot bear the least supposed decay inthose dear fondnesses of thine; and sure none ever became a maid sowell, nor ever were received with adorations, like to mine!

Pardon, my adorable _Sylvia_, the rashness of my passion in thisrencounter with _Foscario_; I am satisfied he is too unhappy in yourdisfavour to merit the being so in mine; but it was sufficient I thensaw a joy in his face, a pleased gaiety in his ooks to make me thinkmy rage reasonable, and my quarrel ust; by the style he writes, Idread his sense less than his person; but you, my lovely maid, havesaid enough to quit me of my fears for both----the night comes on--Icannot call it envious, though it rob me of the light that shouldassist me to finish this, since it will more gloriously repay me in ahappier place--come on then, thou blest retreat of lovers, I forgiveby interruptions here, since thou wilt conduct to the arms of_Sylvia_, --the adoring

PHILANDER. 

_If you have any commands for me, this weeder of the gardens, whom Imet in going in thither, will bring it back; I wait in the meadow, anddate this from the dear primrose-bank, where I have sat with_ Sylvia. 

 * * * * *

_To_ PHILANDER. 

_After the happy night. _

'Tis done, yes, _Philander_, it is done, and after that, what will notlove and grief oblige me to own to you? Oh, by what insensible degreesa maid in love may arrive to say any thing to her lover withoutblushing! I have known the time, the blest innocent time, when but tothink I loved _Philander_ would have covered my face with shame, andto have spoke it would have filled me with confusion--have made metremble, blush, and bend my guilty eyes to earth, not daring to beholdmy charming conqueror, while I made that bashful confession--thoughnow I am grown bold in love, yet I have known the time, when being atCourt, and coming from the Presence, being offered some officious handto lead me to my coach, I have shrunk back with my aversion to yoursex, and have concealed my hands in my pockets to prevent their beingtouched;-a kiss would turn my stomach, and amorous looks (though theywould make me vain) gave me a hate to him that sent them, and neverany maid resolved so much as I to tread the paths of honour, and I hadmany precedents before me to make me careful: thus I was armed withresolution, pride and scorn, against all mankind; but alas, I made nodefence against a brother, but innocently lay exposed to all hisattacks of love, and never thought it criminal till it kindled a newdesire about me, oh, that I should not die with shame to own it----yetsee (I say) how from one soft degree to another, I do not onlyconfessthe shameful truth, but act it too; what with a brother--oh heavens! acrime so monstrous and so new----but by all thy love, by thosesurprising joys so lately experienced----I never will----no, no, Inever can----repent it: oh incorrigible passion! oh harden'd love! Atleast I might have some remorse, some sighing after my poor departedhonour; but why should I dissemble with the powers divine; that knowthe secrets of a soul doomed to eternal love? Yet I am mad, I rave andtear myself, traverse my guilty chamber in a disordered, but a softconfusion; and often opening the conscious curtains, survey the printwhere thou and I were last night laid, surveying it with a thousandtender sighs, and kiss and press thy dear forsaken side, imagine overall our solemn joys, every dear transport, all our ravishing repeatedblisses; then almost fainting, languishing, cry--_Philander_, oh, mycharming little god! Then lay me down in the dear place you pressed, still warm and fragrant with the sweet remains that thou hast leftbehind thee on the pillow. Oh, my soul's joy! My dear, eternalpleasure! What softness hast thou added to my heart within a fewhours! But oh, _Philander_--if (as I've oft been told) possession, which makes women fond and doting, should make thee cold and growindifferent--if nauseated with repeated joy, and having made a fulldiscovery of all that was but once imaginary, when fancy renderedevery thing much finer than experience, oh, how were I undone! For me, by all the inhabitants of heaven I swear, by thy dear charming self, and by thy vows----thou so transcendest all fancy, all dullimagination, all wondering ideas of what man was to me, that I believethee more than human! Some charm divine dwells in thy touches; besidesall these, thy charming look, thy love, the beauties that adorn thee, and thy wit, I swear there is a secret in nature that renders theemore dear, and fits thee to my soul; do not ask it me, let it suffice, it is so, and is not to be told; yes, by it I know thou art the mancreated for my soul, and he alone that has the power to touch it; myeyes and fancy might have been diverted, I might have favoured thisabove the other, preferred that face, that wit, or shape, orair----but to concern my soul, to make that capable of something morethan love, it was only necessary that _Philander_ should be formed, and formed just as he is; that shape, that face, that height, thatdear proportion; I would not have a feature, not a look, not a hairaltered, just as thou art, thou art an angel to me, and I, withoutconsidering what I am, what I might be, or ought, without consideringthe fatal circumstances of thy being married (a thought that shocks mysoul whenever it enters) or whatever other thought that does concernmy happiness or quiet, have fixed my soul to love and my _Philander_, to love thee with all thy disadvantages, and glory in my ruin; theseare my firm resolves--these are my thoughts. But thou art gone, withall the trophies of my love and honour, gay with the spoils, which nowperhaps are unregarded: the mystery is now revealed, the mighty secretis known, and now will be no wonder or surprise: But hear my vows: byall on which my life depends I swear----if ever I perceive the leastdecay of love in thee, if ever thou breakest an oath, a vow, a word, if ever I see repentance in thy face, a coldness in thy eyes (whichheaven divert) by that bright heaven I will die; you may believe me, since I had the courage and durst love thee, and after that durstsacrifice my fame, lose all to justify that love, will, when a changeso fatal shall arrive, find courage too to die; yes, die _Philander_, assure thyself I will, and therefore have a care of

SYLVIA. 

 * * * * *

_To_ PHILANDER. 

OH, where shall I find repose, where seek a silent quiet, but in mylast retreat, the grave! I say not this, my dearest _Philander_, thatI do or ever can repent my love, though the fatal source of all: foralready we are betrayed, our race of joys, our course of stolendelight is ended 'ere begun. I chid, alas, at morning's dawn, I chidyou to be gone, and yet, heaven knows, I grasped you fast, and ratherwould have died than parted with you; I saw the day come on, andcursed its busy light, and still you cried, one blessed minute more, before I part with all the joys of life! And hours were minutes then, and day grew old upon us unawares, it was all abroad, and had calledup all the household spies to pry into the secrets of our loves, andthou, by some tale-bearing flatterer, were seen in passing through thegarden; the news was carried to my father, and a mighty consult hasbeen held in my mother's apartment, who now refuses to see me; whileI, possessed with love, and full of wonder at my new change, lulledwith dear contemplation, (for I am altered much since yesterday, however thou hast charmed me) imagining none knew our theft of love, but only heaven and _Melinda_. But oh, alas, I had no sooner finishedthis enclosed, but my father entered my cabinet, but it was with sucha look----as soon informed me all was betrayed to him; a while hegazed on me with fierceness in his eyes, which so surprised andfrighted me, that I, all pale and trembling, threw myself at his feet;he, seeing my disorder, took me up, and fixed so steadfast and so sada look upon me, as would have broken any heart but mine, supportedwith _Philander_'s, image; I sighed and wept--and silently attendedwhen the storm should fall, which turned into a shower so soft andpiercing, I almost died to see it; at last delivering me apaper--'Here, ' (cried he, with a sigh and trembling-interrupted voice)'read what I cannot tell thee. Oh, _Sylvia_, ' cried he, '--thou joyand hope of all my aged years, thou object of my dotage, how hast thoubrought me to my grave with sorrow!' So left me with the paper in myhand: speechless, unmov'd a while I stood, till he awaked me by newsighs and cries; for passing through my chamber, by chance, or bydesign, he cast his melancholy eyes towards my bed, and saw the deardisorder there, unusual--then cried--'Oh, wretched _Sylvia_, thou artlost!' And left me almost fainting. The letter, I soon found, was oneyou'd sent from _Dorillus_ his farm this morning, after you had partedfrom me, which has betrayed us all, but how it came into their hands Isince have understood: for, as I said, you were seen passing throughthe garden, from thence (to be confirmed) they dogged you to the farm, and waiting there your motions, saw _Dorillus_ come forth with aletter in his hand, which though he soon concealed, yet not so soonbut it was taken notice of, when hastening to _Bellfont_ the nearestway, they gave an account to _Monsieur_, my father, who going out to_Dorillus_, commanded him to deliver him the letter; his vassal durstnot disobey, but yielded it with such dispute and reluctancy, as hedurst maintain with a man so great and powerful; before _Dorillus_returned you had taken horse, so that you are a stranger to ourmisfortune--What shall I do? Where shall I seek a refuge from thedanger that threatens us? A sad and silent grief appears throughout_Bellfont_, and the face of all things is changed, yet none knows theunhappy cause but _Monsieur_ my father, and _Madam_ my mother, _Melinda_ and myself. _Melinda_ and my page are both dismissed fromwaiting on me, as supposed confidants of this dear secret, andstrangers, creatures of _Madam_ the Countess, put about me. Oh_Philander_, what can I do? Thy advice, or I am lost: but how, alas, shall I either convey these to thee, or receive any thing from thee, unless some god of love, in pity of our miseries, should offer us hisaid? I will try to corrupt my new boy, I see good nature, pity andgenerosity in his looks, he is well born too, and may be honest. 

Thus far, _Philander_, I had writ when supper was brought me, for yetmy parents have not deigned to let me come into their presence; thosethat serve me tell me _Myrtilla_ is this afternoon arrived at_Bellfont_; all is mighty close carried in the Countess's apartment. Itremble with the thought of what will be the result of the greatconsultation: I have been tempting of the boy, but I perceive theyhave strictly charged him not to obey me; he says, against his will heshall betray me, for they will have him searched; but he has promisedme to see one of the weeders, who working in the garden, into which mywindow opens, may from thence receive what I shall let down; if it betrue, I shall get this fatal knowledge to you, that you may not onlyprepare for the worst, but contrive to set at liberty

_The unfortunate_ SYLVIA. 

_My heart is ready to break, and my eyes are drowned in tears: oh_Philander, _how much unlike the last will this fatal night prove!Farewell, and think of_ Sylvia. 

 * * * * *

_This was writ in the cover to both the foregoing letters to_Philander. 

Philander, all that I dreaded, all that I feared is fallen upon me: Ihave been arraigned, and convicted, three judges, severe as the threeinfernal ones, sat in condemnation on me, a father, a mother, and asister; the fact, alas, was too clearly proved, and too manycircumstantial truths appeared against me, for me to plead not guilty. But, oh heavens! Had you seen the tears, and heard the prayers, threats, reproaches and upbraidings--these from an injured sister, those my heartbroken parents; a tender mother here, a railing andreviling sister there--an angry father, and a guilty conscience--thouwouldst have wondered at my fortitude, my courage, and my resolution, and all from love! For surely I had died, had not thy love, thypowerful love supported me; through all the accidents of life andfate, that can and will support me; in the midst of all theirclamours and their railings I had from that a secret and soft reposewithin, that whispered me, _Philander_ loves me still; discarded andrenounced by my fond parents; love still replies, _Philander_ stillwill own thee; thrown from thy mother's and thy sister's arms, _Philander_'s still are open to receive thee: and though I rave andalmost die to see them grieve, to think that I am the fatal cause whomakes so sad confusion in our family; (for, oh, 'tis piteous to beholdmy sister's sighs and tears, my mother's sad despair, my father'sraging and his weeping, by melancholy turns;) yet even thesedeplorable objects, that would move the most obdurate, stubborn heartto pity and repentance, render not mine relenting; and yet I amwondrous pitiful by nature, and I can weep and faint to see the sadeffects of my loose, wanton love, yet cannot find repentance for thedear charming sin; and yet, should'st thou behold my mother'slanguishment, no bitter words proceeding from her lips, no tears fallfrom her downcast eyes, but silent and sad as death she sits, and willnot view the light; should'st thou, I say, behold it, thou would'st, if not repent, yet grieve that thou hadst loved me: sure love hasquite confounded nature in me, I could not else behold this fatal ruinwithout revenging it upon my stubborn heart; a thousand times a day Imake new vows against the god of love, but it is too late, and I am asoften perjured----oh, should the gods revenge the broken vows oflovers, what love-sick man, what maid betrayed like me, but would bedamned a thousand times? For every little love-quarrel, every kindresentment makes us swear to love no more; and every smile, and everyflattering softness from the dear injurer, makes us perjured: let allthe force of virtue, honour, interest join with my suffering parentsto persuade me to cease to love _Philander_, yet let him but appear, let him but look on me with those dear charming eyes, let him butsigh, or press me to his fragrant cheek, fold me--and cry--'Ah, _Sylvia_, can you quit me?--nay, you must not, you shall not, nay, Iknow you cannot, remember you are mine--There is such eloquence inthose dear words, when uttered with a voice so tender and sopassionate, that I believe them irresistible--alas, I find themso--and easily break all the feebler vows I make against thee; yes, Imust be undone, perjured, forsworn, incorrigible, unnatural, disobedient, and any thing, rather than not _Philander_'s--Turnthen, my soul, from these domestic, melancholy objects, and lookabroad, look forward for a while on charming prospects; look on_Philander_, the dear, the young, the amorous _Philander_, whose verylooks infuse a tender joy throughout the soul, and chase all cares, all sorrows and anxious thoughts from thence, whose wanton play issofter I than that of young-fledged angels, and when he looks, andsighs, and speaks, and touches, he is a very god: where art thou, ohmiracle of youth, thou charming dear undoer! Now thou hast gained theglory of the conquest, thou slightest the rifled captive: what, not aline? Two tedious days are past, and no kind power relieves me with aword, or any tidings of _Philander_--and yet thou mayest havesent--but I shall never see it, till they raise up fresh witnessesagainst me--I cannot think thee wavering or forgetful; for if I did, surely thou knowest my heart so well, thou canst not think it wouldlive to think another thought. Confirm my kind belief, and send tome----

There is a gate well known to thee through which thou passest to_Bellfont_, it is in the road about half a league from hence, an oldman opens it, his daughter weeds in the garden, and will convey thisto thee as I have ordered her; by the same messenger thou mayestreturn thine, and early as she comes I'll let her down a string, bywhich way unperceived I shall receive them from her: I will say nomore, nor instruct you how you shall preserve your

SYLVIA. 

 * * * * *

_To_ SYLVIA. 

_That which was left in her hands by_ Monsieur, _her father, in hercabinet. _

_My adorable_ Sylvia, I can no more describe to thee the torment with which I part from_Bellfont_, than I can that heaven of joy I was raised to last nightby the transporting effects of thy wondrous love; both are to excess, and both killing, but in different kinds. Oh, _Sylvia_, by all myunspeakable raptures in thy arms, by all thy charms of beauty, toonumerous and too ravishing for fancy to imagine--I swear----by thislast night, by this dear new discovery, thou hast increased my love tothat vast height, it has undone my peace--all my repose is gone--thisdear, dear night has ruined me, it has confirmed me now I must have_Sylvia_, and cannot live without her, no not a day, an hour----tosave the world, unless I had the entire possession of my lovely maid:ah, _Sylvia_, I am not that indifferent dull lover that can be raisedby one beauty to an appetite, and satisfy it with another; I cannotcarry the dear flame you kindle to quench it in the embraces of_Myrtilla_; no, by the eternal powers, he that pretends to love, andloves at that coarse rate, needs fear no danger from that passion, henever was born to love, or die for love; _Sylvia_, _Myrtilla_ and athousand more were all the same to such a dull insensible; no, _Sylvia_, when you find I can return back to the once left matrimonialbed, despise me, scorn me: swear (as then thou justly may'st) I lovenot _Sylvia_: let the hot brute drudge on (he who is fired by nature, not by love, whom any body's kisses can inspire) and ease thenecessary heats of youth; love is a nobler fire, which nothing canallay but the dear she that raised it; no, no, my purer stream shallnever run back to the fountain, whence it is parted, nay it cannot, itwere as possible to love again, where one has ceased to love, as carrythe desire and wishes back; by heaven, to me there is nothing sounnatural; no, _Sylvia_, it is you I must possess, you have completedmy undoing now, and I must die unless you give me all----but oh, I amgoing from thee----when are we like to meet----oh, how shall I supportmy absent hours! Thought will destroy me, for it will be all on thee, and those at such a distance will be insupportable. ----What shall I dowithout thee? If after all the toils of dull insipid life I couldreturn and lay me down by thee, _Herculean_ labours would be soft andeasy----the harsh fatigues of war, the dangerous hurries of affairs ofState, the business and the noise of life, I could support withpleasure, with wondrous satisfaction, could treat _Myrtilla_ too withthat respect, that generous care, as would become a husband. I couldbe easy every where, and every one should be at ease with me; now Ishall go and find no _Sylvia_ there, but sigh and wander like anunknown thing, on some strange foreign shore; I shall grow peevish asa new wean'd child, no toys, no bauble of the gaudy world will pleasemy wayward fancy: I shall be out of humour, rail at every thing, inanger shall demand, and sullenly reply to every question asked andanswered, and when I think to ease my soul by a retreat, a thousandsoft desires, a thousand wishes wreck me, pain me to raving, tillbeating the senseless floor with my feet----I cried aloud--'My_Sylvia_!'--thus, thus, my charming dear, the poor _Philander_ isemployed when banished from his heaven! If thus it used to be whenonly that bright outside was adored, judge now my pain, now thou hastmade known a thousand graces more--oh, pity me----for it is not in thypower to guess what I shall now endure in absence of thee; for thouhast charmed my soul to an excess too mighty for a patient suffering:alas, I die already----

I am yet at _Dorillus_ his farm, lingering on from one swift minute tothe other, and have not power to go; a thousand looks all languishingI've cast from eyes all drowned in tears towards _Bellfont_, havesighed a thousand wishes to my angel, from a sad breaking heart--lovewill not let me go--and honour calls me--alas, I must away; when shallwe meet again? Ah, when my _Sylvia_?--Oh charming maid--thou'lt see meshortly dead, for thus I cannot live; thou must be mine, or I must beno more--I must away--farewell--may all the softest joys of heavenattend thee--adieu--fail not to send a hundred times a day, ifpossible; I've ordered _Alexis_ to do nothing but wait for all thatcomes, and post away with what thou sendest to me----again adieu, think on me----and till thou callest me to thee, imagine nothing uponearth so wretched as _Sylvia_'s own

PHILANDER. 

_Know, my angel, that passing through the garden this morning, I met_Erasto----_I fear he saw me near enough to know me, and will give anaccount of it; let me know what happens----adieu half dead, justtaking horse to go from_ Sylvia. 

 * * * * *

_To_ PHILANDER. 

_Written in a leaf of a table-book_. 

I have only time to say, on Thursday I am destined a sacrifice to_Foscario_, which day finishes the life of

SYLVIA. 

 * * * * *

_To SYLVIA_. 

_From_ Dorillus _his farm_. 

Raving and mad at the news your billet brought me, I (withoutconsidering the effects that would follow) am arrived at _Bellfont_; Ihave yet so much patience about me, to suffer myself to be concealedat _Dorillus_ his cottage; but if I see thee not to-night, or find nohopes of it----by heaven I'll set Bellfont all in a flame but I willhave my _Sylvia_; be sure I'll do it--What? To be married--Sylvia tobe married--and given from _Philander_--Oh, never think it, forswornfair creature--What? Give _Foscario_ that dear charming body? Shall hebe grasped in those dear naked arms? Taste all thy kisses, press thysnowy breasts, command thy joys, and rifle all thy heaven? Furies andhell environ me if he do----Oh, Sylvia, faithless, perjured, charming_Sylvia_--and canst thou suffer it--Hear my vows, oh fickleangel--hear me, thou faithless ravisher! That fatal moment that thedaring priest offers to join your hands, and give thee from me, I willsacrifice your lover; by heaven I will, before the altar, stab him atyour feet; the holy place, nor the numbers that attend ye, nor allyour prayers nor tears, shall save his heart; look to it, and be notfalse----yet I'll trust not thy faith; no, she that can think butfalsely, and she that can so easily be perjured----for, but to sufferit is such a sin--such an undoing sin--that thou art surely damned!And yet, by heaven, that is not all the ruin shall attend thee; no, lovely mischief, no----you shall not escape till the damnation day;for I will rack thee, torture thee and plague thee, those few hours Ihave to live, (if spiteful fate prevent my just revenge upon_Foscario_) and when I am dead--as I shall quickly be killed by thycruelty--know, thou fair murderer, I will haunt thy sight, be everwith thee, and surround thy bed, and fright thee from the ravisher;fright all thy loose delights, and check thy joys----Oh, I ammad!----I cannot think that thought, no, thou shalt never advance sofar in wickedness, I will save thee, if I can----Oh, my adorable, whydost thou torture me? How hast thou sworn so often and so loud thatheaven I am sure has heard thee, and will punish thee? How didst thouswear that happy blessed night, in which I saw thee last, clasped inmy arms, weeping with eager love, with melting softness on mybosom----remember how thou swor'st----oh, that dear night, --let merecover strength--and then I will tell thee more--I must repeat thestory of that night, which thou perhaps (oh faithless!) hastforgot--that glorious night, when all the heavens were gay, and everyfavouring power looked down and smiled upon our thefts of love, thatgloomy night, the first of all my joys, the blessedest of mylife--trembling and fainting I approach your chamber, and while youmet and grasped me at the door, taking my trembling body in yourarms-remember how I fainted at your feet, and what dear arts you usedto call me back to life--remember how you kissed and pressed myface--Remember what dear charming words you spoke--and when I didrecover, how I asked you with a feeble doubtful voice--'Ah, _Sylvia_, will you still continue thus, thus wondrous soft and fond? Will you beever mine, and ever true?'--What did you then reply, when kneeling onthe carpet where I lay, what _Sylvia_, did you vow? How invoke heaven?How call its vengeance down if ever you loved another man again, ifever you touched or smiled on any other, if ever you suffered words oracts of love but from _Philander_? Both heaven and hell thou didstawaken with thy oaths, one was an angry listener to what it knewthou'dst break, the other laughed to know thou would'st be perjured, while only I, poor I, was all the while a silent fond believer; yourvows stopped all my language, as your kisses did my lips, you sworeand kissed, and vowed and clasped my neck--Oh charming flatterer! Ohartful, dear beguiler! Thus into life, and peace, and fond security, you charmed my willing soul! It was then, my _Sylvia_, (certain ofyour heart, and that it never could be given away to any other) Ipressed my eager joys, but with such tender caution--such fear andfondness, such an awful passion, as overcame your faint resistance; myreasons and my arguments were strong, for you were mine by love, bysacred vows, and who could lay a better claim to _Sylvia_? How oft Icried--'Why this resistance, _Sylvia_? My charming dear, whose areyou? Not _Philander_'s? And shall _Philander_ not command hisown----you must----ah cruel----' then a soft struggle followed, withhalf-breathed words, with sighs and trembling hearts, and now andthen--'Ah cruel and unreasonable'--was softly said on both sides; thusstrove, thus argued--till both lay panting in each other's arms, notwith the toil, but rapture; I need not say what followed afterthis--what tender showers of strange endearing mixtures 'twixt joy andshame, 'twixt love and new surprise, and ever when I dried your eyeswith kisses, unable to repeat any other language than--'Oh my_Sylvia_! Oh my charming angel!' While sighs of joy, and closegrasping thee--spoke all the rest--while every tender word, and everysigh was echoed back by thee; you pressed me--and you vowed you lovedme more than ever yet you did; then swore anew, and in my bosom, hidyour charming blushing face, then with excess of love would call onheaven, 'Be witness, oh ye powers' (a thousand times ye cried) 'ifever maid e'er loved like _Sylvia_--punish me strangely, oh eternalpowers, if ever I leave _Philander_, if ever I cease to love him; noforce, no art, not interest, honour, wealth, convenience, duty, orwhat other necessary cause--shall ever be of force to make me leavethee----' Thus hast thou sworn, oh charming, faithless flatterer, thusbetwixt each ravishing minute thou would'st swear--and I as fastbelieved--and loved thee more----Hast thou forgot it all, oh ficklecharmer, hast thou? Hast thou forgot between each awful ceremony oflove, how you cried out 'Farewell the world and mortal cares, give me_Philander_, heaven, I ask no more'--Hast thou forgot all this? Didall the live-long night hear any other sound but those our mutualvows, of invocations, broken sighs, and soft and trembling whispers?Say, had we any other business for the tender hours? Oh, all ye hostof heaven, ye stars that shone, and all ye powers the faithless lovelymaid has sworn by, be witness how she is perjur'd; revenge it all, yeinjured powers, revenge it, since by it she has undone thefaithfullest youth, and broke the tenderest heart--that ever fell asacrifice to love; and all ye little weeping gods of love, revengeyour murdered victim--your

PHILANDER. 

 * * * * *

_To_ PHILANDER. 

_In the leaves of a table-book_. 

On, my _Philander_, how dearly welcome, and how needless were thy kindreproaches! Which I will not endeavour to convince by argument, butsuch a deed as shall at once secure thy fears now and for the future. I have not a minute to write in; place, my dear _Philander_, yourchariot in St _Vincent's_ Wood, and since I am not able to fix thehour of my flight, let it wait there my coming; it is but a littlemile from _Bellfont_, _Dorillus_ is suspected there, remove thyself tothe high-way-gate cottage--there I'll call on thee----'twas lucky, that thy fears, or love, or jealousy brought thee so near me, sinceI'd resolv'd before upon my flight. Parents and honour, interest andfame, farewell--I leave you all to follow my _Philander_--Haste thechariot to the thickest part of the wood, for I am impatient to begone, and shall take the first opportunity to fly to my_Philander_----Oh, love me, love me, love me!

_Under pretence of reaching the jessamine which shades my window, Iunperceived let down and receive what letters you send by the honestweeder; by her send your sense of my flight, or rather your direction, for it is resolved already. _

 * * * * *

_To_ SYLVIA. 

_My lovely Angel_, So careful I will be of this dear mighty secret, that I will only say, _Sylvia_ shall be obeyed; no more----nay, I'll not dare to think ofit, lest in my rapture I should name my joy aloud, and busy windsshould bear it to some officious listener, and undo me; no more, nomore, my _Sylvia_, extremes of joy (as grief) are ever dumb: let itsuffice, this blessing which you proffer I had designed to ask, assoon as you'd convinced me of your faith; yes, _Sylvia_, I had askedit though it was a bounty too great for any mortal to conceive heavenshould bestow upon him; but if it do, that very moment I'll resign theworld, and barter all for love and charming _Sylvia_. Haste, haste, mylife; my arms, my bosom and my soul are open to receive the lovelyfugitive; haste, for this moment I am going to plant myself where youdirected. _Adieu_. 

 * * * * *

_To_ PHILANDER. 

_After her flight_. 

Ah, _Philander_, how have you undone a harmless poor unfortunate?Alas, where are you? Why would you thus abandon me? Is this the soul, the bosom, these the arms that should receive me? I'll not upbraidthee with my love, or charge thee with my undoing; it was all my own, and were it yet to do, I should again be ruined for _Philander_, andnever find repentance, no not for a thought, a word or deed of love, to the dear false forsworn; but I can die, yes, hopeless, friendless--left by all, even by _Philander_--all but resolution hasabandoned me, and that can lay me down, whenever I please, in saferepose and peace: but oh, thou art not false, or if thou be'st, oh, let me hear it from thy mouth, see thy repented love, that I may knowthere is no such thing on earth, as faith, as honesty, as love ortruth; however, be thou true, or be thou false, be bold and let meknow it, for thus to doubt is torture worse than death. What accident, thou dear, dear man, has happened to prevent thee from pursuing mydirections, and staying for me at the gate? Where have I missed thee, thou joy of my soul? By what dire mistake have I lost thee? And where, oh, where art thou, my charming lover? I sought thee every where, butlike the languishing abandoned mistress in the _Canticles_ I soughtthee, but I found thee not, no bed of roses would discover thee: I sawno print of thy dear shape, nor heard no amorous sigh that coulddirect me--I asked the wood and springs, complained and called on theethrough all the groves, but they confessed thee not; nothing butechoes answered me, and when I cried _'Philander'_--cried--_'Philander'_; thus searched I till the coming night, and myincreasing fears made me resolve for flight, which soon we did, andsoon arrived at _Paris_, but whither then to go, heaven knows, Icould not tell, for I was almost naked, friendless and forlorn; atlast, consulting _Brilliard_ what to do, after a thousand revolutions, he concluded to trust me with a sister he had, who was married to a_Guidon_ of the _Guard de Corps_; he changed my name, and made mepass for a fortune he had stolen; but oh, no welcomes, nor mysafe retreat were sufficient to repose me all the ensuing night, for Ihad no news of _Philander_, no, not a dream informed me; a thousandfears and jealousies have kept me waking, and _Brilliard_, who hasbeen all night in pursuit of thee, is now returned successless anddistracted as thy _Sylvia_, for duty and generosity have almost thesame effects in him, with love and tenderness and jealousy in me; andsince _Paris_ affords no news of thee, (which sure it would if thouwert in it, for oh, the sun might hide himself with as much ease asgreat _Philander_) he is resolved to search St _Vincent_'s Wood, andall the adjacent cottages and groves; he thinks that you, not knowingof my escape, may yet be waiting thereabouts; since quitting thechariot for fear of being seen, you might be so far advanced into thewood, as not to find the way back to the thicket where the chariotwaited: it is thus he feeds my hope, and flatters my poor heart, thatfain would think thee true--or if thou be'st not--but cursed be allsuch thoughts, and far from _Sylvia_'s soul; no, no, thou art notfalse, it cannot be, thou art a god, and art unchangeable: I know, bysome mistake, thou art attending me, as wild and impatient as I;perhaps you thinkest me false, and thinkest I have not courage topursue my love, and fly; and, thou perhaps art waiting for the hourwherein thou thinkest I will give myself away to _Foscario_: oh crueland unkind! To think I loved so lightly, to think I would attend thatfatal hour; no, _Philander_, no faithless, dear enchanter: last night, the eve to my intended wedding-day, having reposed my soul by myresolves for flight, and only waiting the lucky minute for escape, Iset a willing hand to every thing that was preparing for the ceremonyof the ensuing morning; with that pretence I got me early to mychamber, tried on a thousand dresses, and asked a thousand questions, all impertinent, which would do best, which looked most gay and rich, then dressed my gown with jewels, decked my apartment up, and leftnothing undone that might secure 'em both of my being pleased, and ofmy stay; nay, and to give the less suspicion, I undressed myself evento my under-petticoat and night-gown; I would not take a jewel, not apistole, but left my women finishing my work, and carelessly and thusundressed, walked towards the garden, and while every one was busy intheir office, getting myself out of sight, posted over the meadow tothe wood as swift as _Daphne_ from the god of day, till I arrived mostluckily where I found the chariot waiting; attended by _Brilliard_; ofwhom, when I (all fainting and breathless with my swift flight)demanded his lord, he lifted me into the chariot, and cried, 'a littlefarther, _Madam_, you will find him; for he, for fear of making adiscovery, took yonder shaded path'--towards which we went, but nodear vision of my love appeared--And thus, my charming lover, you havemy kind adventure; send me some tidings back that you are found, thatyou are well, and lastly that you are mine, or this, that should havebeen my wedding-day, will see itself that of the death of

SYLVIA. 

Paris, _Thursday, from my bed, for want of clothes, or rather newsfrom_ Philander. 

 * * * * *

_To_ SYLVIA. 

My life, my _Sylvia_, my eternal joy, art thou then safe! And art thoureserved for _Philander_? Am I so blest by heaven, by love, and mydear charming maid? Then let me die in peace, since I have lived tosee all that my soul desires in _Sylvia_'s being mine; perplex not thysoft heart with fears or jealousies, nor think so basely, so poorly ofmy love, to need more oaths or vows; yet to confirm thee, I wouldswear my breath away; but oh, it needs not here;----take then no care, my lovely dear, turn not thy charming eyes or thoughts on afflictingobjects; oh think not on what thou hast abandoned, but what thou artarrived to; look forward on the joys of love and youth, for I willdedicate all my remaining life to render thine serene and glad; andyet, my _Sylvia_, thou art so dear to me, so wondrous precious to mysoul, that in my extravagance of love, I fear I shall grow atroublesome and wearying coxcomb, shall dread every look thou givestaway from me--a smile will make me rave, a sigh or touch make mecommit a murder on the happy slave, or my own jealous heart, but allthe world besides is _Sylvia_'s, all but another lover; but I rave andrun too fast away; ages must pass a tedious term of years before I canbe jealous, or conceive thou can'st be weary of _Philander_--I will beso fond, so doting, and so playing, thou shalt not have an idle minuteto throw away a look in, or a thought on any other; no, no, I havethee now, and will maintain my right by dint and force of love--oh, Iam wild to see thee--but, _Sylvia_, I am wounded--do not be frightedthough, for it is not much or dangerous, but very troublesome, sinceit permits me not to fly to _Sylvia_, but she must come to me in orderto it. _Brilliard_ has a bill on my goldsmith in _Paris_ for athousand pistoles to buy thee something to put on; any thing that isready, and he will conduct thee to me, for I shall rave myself into afever if I see thee not to-day--I cannot live without thee now, forthou art my life, my everlasting charmer: I have ordered _Brilliard_to get a chariot and some unknown livery for thee, and I think thecontinuance of passing for what he has already rendered thee will dovery well, till I have taken farther care of thy dear safety, whichwill be as soon as I am able to rise; for most unfortunately, my dear_Sylvia_, quitting the chariot in the thicket for fear of being seenwith it, and walking down a shaded path that suited with themelancholy and fears of unsuccess in thy adventure; I went so far, asere I could return to the place where I left the chariot it wasgone--it seems with thee; I know not how you missed me--butpossessed myself with a thousand false fears, sometimes that in thyflight thou mightest be pursued and overtaken, seized in the chariotand returned back to _Bellfont_; or that the chariot was found seizedon upon suspicion, though the coachman and _Brilliard_ were disguisedpast knowledge----or if thou wert gone, alas I knew not whither; butthat was a thought my doubts and fears would not suffer me to ease mysoul with; no, I (as jealous lovers do) imagined the most tormentingthings for my own repose. I imagined the chariot taken, or at least sodiscovered as to be forced away without thee: I imagined that thouwert false----heaven forgive me, false, my _Sylvia_, and hadst changedthy mind; mad with this thought (which I fancied most reasonable, andfixt it in my soul) I raved about the wood, making a thousand vows tobe revenged on all; in order to it I left the thicket, and betookmyself to the high road of the wood, where I laid me down among thefern, close hid, with sword ready, waiting for the happy bridegroom, who I knew (it being the wedding eve) would that way pass thatevening; pleased with revenge, which now had got even the place oflove, I waited there not above a little hour but heard the tramplingof a horse, and looking up with mighty joy, I found it _Foscario_'s;alone he was, and unattended, for he'd outstripped his equipage, andwith a lover's haste, and full of joy, was making towards _Bellfont_;but I (now fired with rage) leaped from my cover, cried, 'Stay, _Foscario_, ere you arrive to _Sylvia_, we must adjust an odd accountbetween us'----at which he stopping, as nimbly alighted;--in fine, wefought, and many wounds were given and received on both sides, tillhis people coming up, parted us, just as we were fainting with loss ofblood in each other's arms; his coach and chariot were amongst hisequipage; into the first his servants lifted him, when he cried outwith a feeble voice, to have me, who now lay bleeding on the ground, put into the chariot, and to be safely conveyed where-ever Icommanded, and so in haste they drove him towards _Bellfont_, and me, who was resolved not to stir far from it, to a village within a mileof it; from whence I sent to _Paris_ for a surgeon, and dismissed thechariot, ordering, in the hearing of the coachman, a litter to bebrought me immediately, to convey me that night to _Paris_; but thesurgeon coming, found it not safe for me to be removed, and I am nowwilling to live, since _Sylvia_ is mine; haste to me then, my lovelymaid, and fear not being discovered, for I have given order here inthe _cabaret_ where I am, if any inquiry is made after me, to say, Iwent last night to _Paris_. Haste, my love, haste to my arms, asfeeble as they are, they'll grasp thee a dear welcome: I will say nomore, nor prescribe rules to thy love, that can inform thee best whatthou must do to save the life of thy most passionate adorer, PHILANDER. 

 * * * * *

_To_ PHILANDER. 

I have sent _Brilliard_ to see if the coast be clear, that we may comewith safety; he brings you, instead of _Sylvia_, a young cavalier thatwill be altogether as welcome to _Philander_, and who impatientlywaits his return at a little cottage at the end of the village. 

 * * * * *

_To_ SYLVIA. 

_From the_ Bastille. 

I know my _Sylvia_ expected me at home with her at dinner to-day, andwonders how I could live so long as since morning without the eternaljoy of my soul; but know, my _Sylvia_, that a trivial misfortune isnow fallen upon me, which in the midst of all our heaven of joys, oursoftest hours of life, has so often changed thy smiles into fears andsighings, and ruffled thy calm soul with cares: nor let it now seemstrange or afflicting, since every day for these three months we havebeen alarmed with new fears that have made thee uneasy even in_Philander_'s arms; we knew some time or other the storm would fall onus, though we had for three happy months sheltered ourselves from itsthreatening rage; but love, I hope, has armed us both; for me--let mebe deprived of all joys, (but those my charmer can dispense) all thefalse world's respect, the dull esteem of fools and formal coxcombs, the grave advice of the censorious wise, the kind opinion ofill-judging women, no matter, so my _Sylvia_ remain but mine. 

I am, my _Sylvia_, arrested at the suit of _Monsieur_ the Count, yourfather, for a rape on my lovely maid: I desire, my soul, you willimmediately take coach and go to the Prince _Cesario_, and he willbail me out. I fear not a fair trial; and, _Sylvia_, thefts of mutuallove were never counted felony; I may die for love, my _Sylvia_, butnot for loving--go, haste, my _Sylvia_, that I may be no longerdetained from the solid pleasure and business of my soul--haste, myloved dear--haste and relieve

PHILANDER. 

_Come not to me, lest there should be an order to detain my dear_. 

 * * * * *

_To_ PHILANDER. 

I am not at all surprised, my _Philander_, at the accident that hasbefallen thee, because so long expected, and love has so wellfortified my heart, that I support our misfortunes with a courageworthy of her that loves and is beloved by the glorious _Philander_; Iam armed for the worst that can befall me, and that is my beingrendered a public shame, who have been so in the private whispers ofall the Court for near these happy three months, in which I have hadthe wondrous satisfaction of being retired from the world with thecharming _Philander_; my father too knew it long since, at least hecould not hinder himself from guessing it, though his fond indulgencesuffered his justice and his anger to sleep, and possibly had stillslept, had not _Myrtilla_'s spite and rage (I should say justresentment, but I cannot) roused up his drowsy vengeance: I know shehas plied him with her softening eloquence, her prayers and tears, towin him to consent to make a public business of it; but I am entered, love has armed my soul, and I'll pursue my fortune with that height offortitude as shall surprise the world; yes, _Philander_, since I havelost my honour, fame and friends, my interest and my parents, and allfor mightier love, I'll stop at nothing now; if there be any hazardsmore to run, I will thank the spiteful Fates that bring them on, andwill even tire them out with my unwearied passion. Love on, _Philander_, if thou darest, like me; let 'em pursue me with theirhate and vengeance, let prisons, poverty and tortures seize me, itshall not take one grain of love away from my resolved heart, nor makeme shed a tear of penitence for loving thee; no, _Philander_, since Iknow what a ravishing pleasure it is to live thine, I will never quitthe glory of dying also thy

SYLVIA. 

Cesario, _my dear, is coming to be your bail; with_ Monsieur _theCount of----I die to see you after your suffering for_ Sylvia. 

 * * * * *

_To_ SYLVIA. 

BELIEVE me, charming _Sylvia_, I live not those hours I am absent fromthee, thou art my life, my soul, and my eternal felicity; while youbelieve this truth, my _Sylvia_, you will not entertain a thousandfears, if I but stay a moment beyond my appointed hour; especiallywhen _Philander_, who is not able to support the thought that anything should afflict his lovely baby, takes care from hour to hour tosatisfy her tender doubting heart. My dearest, I am gone into the cityto my advocate's, my trial with _Monsieur_ the Count, your father, coming on to-morrow, and it will be at least two tedious hours ere Ican bring my adorable her

PHILANDER. 

 * * * * *

_To_ SYLVIA. 

I was called on, my dearest child, at my advocate's by _Cesario_;there is some great business this evening debated in the cabal, whichis at _Monsieur----_ in the city; _Cesario_ tells me there is a verydiligent search made by _Monsieur_ the Count, your father, for my_Sylvia_; I die if you are taken, lest the fright should hurt thee; ifpossible, I would have thee remove this evening from those lodgings, lest the people, who are of the royal party, should be induced throughmalice or gain to discover thee; I dare not come myself to wait onthee, lest my being seen should betray thee, but I have sent_Brilliard_ (whose zeal for thee shall be rewarded) to conduct thee toa little house in the _Faubourg St Germain_, where lives a prettywoman, and mistress to _Chevalier Tomaso_, called _Belinda_, a womanof wit, and discreet enough to understand what ought to be paid to amaid of the quality and character of _Sylvia_; she already knows thestories of our loves; thither I'll come to thee, and bring _Cesario_to supper, as soon as the cabal breaks up. Oh, my _Sylvia_, I shallone day recompense all thy goodness, all thy bravery, thy love and thysuffering for thy eternal lover and slave, PHILANDER. 

 * * * * *

_To_ PHILANDER. 

So hasty I was to obey _Philander_'s commands, that by the unweariedcare and industry of the faithful _Brilliard_, I went before threeo'clock disguised away to the place whither you ordered us, and waswell received by the very pretty young woman of the house, who hassense and breeding as well as beauty: but oh, _Philander_, this flightpleases me not; alas, what have I done? my fault is only love, andthat sure I should boast, as the most divine passion of the soul; no, no, _Philander_, it is not my love's the criminal, no, not the placingit on _Philander_ the crime, but it is thy most unhappy circumstances, thy being married, and that was no crime to heaven till man made laws, and can laws reach to damnation? If so, curse on the fatal hour thatthou wert married, curse on the priest that joined ye, and curst beall that did contribute to the undoing ceremony----except_Philander_'s tongue, that answered yes--oh, heavens! Was there butone dear man of all your whole creation that could charm the soul of_Sylvia_! And could ye--oh, ye wise all-seeing powers that knew mysoul, could ye give him away? How had my innocence offended ye? Ourhearts you did create for mutual love, how came the dire mistake?

Another would have pleased the indifferent _Myrtilla_'s soul as well, but mine was fitted for no other man; only _Philander_, the adored_Philander_, with that dear form, that shape, that charming face, thathair, those lovely speaking eyes, that wounding softness in his tendervoice, had power to conquer _Sylvia_; and can this be a sin? Oh, heavens, can it? Must laws, which man contrived for mere conveniency, have power to alter the divine decrees at our creation?--Perhaps theyargue to-morrow at the bar, that _Myrtilla_ was ordained by heaven for_Philander_; no, no, he mistook the sister, it was pretty near hecame, but by a fatal error was mistaken; his hasty youth made him toonegligently stop before his time at the wrong woman, he should havegazed a little farther on--and then it had been _Sylvia_'s lot----Itis fine divinity they teach, that cry marriages are made inheaven--folly and madness grown into grave custom; should an unheedyyouth in heat of blood take up with the first convenient she thatoffers, though he be an heir to some grave politician, great and rich, and she the outcast of the common stews, coupled in height of wine, and sudden lust, which once allayed, and that the sober morning wakeshim to see his error, he quits with shame the jilt, and owns no morethe folly; shall this be called a heavenly conjunction? Were I inheight of youth, as now I am, forced by my parents, obliged byinterest and honour, to marry the old, deformed, diseased, decrepitCount _Anthonio_, whose person, qualities and principles I loathe, andrather than suffer him to consummate his nuptials, suppose I should(as sure I should) kill myself, it were blasphemy to lay this fatalmarriage to heaven's charge----curse on your nonsense, ye imposinggownmen, curse on your holy cant; you may as well call rapes andmurders, treason and robbery, the acts of heaven; because heavensuffers them to be committed. Is it heaven's pleasure therefore, heaven's decree? A trick, a wise device of priests, no more----to makethe nauseated, tired-out pair drag on the careful business of life, drudge for the dull-got family with greater satisfaction, because theyare taught to think marriage was made in heaven; a mighty comfortthat, when all the joys of life are lost by it: were it not nobler farthat honour kept him just, and that good nature made him reasonableprovision? Daily experience proves to us, no couple live with lesscontent, less ease, than those who cry heaven joins? Who is it lovesless than those that marry? And where love is not, there is hate andloathing at best, disgust, disquiet, noise and repentance: no, _Philander_, that's a heavenly match when two souls touched with equalpassion meet, (which is but rarely seen)--when willing vows, withserious considerations, are weighed and made, when a true view istaken of the soul, when no base interest makes the hasty bargain, whenno conveniency or design, or drudge, or slave, shall find itnecessary, when equal judgements meet that can esteem the blessingsthey possess, and distinguish the good of either's love, and set avalue on each other's merits, and where both understand to take andpay; who find the beauty of each other's minds and rate them as theyought; whom not a formal ceremony binds, (with which I've nought todo, but dully give a cold consenting affirmative) but well consideredvows from soft inclining hearts, uttered with love, with joy, withdear delight, when heaven is called to witness; she is thy wife, _Philander_ he is my husband; this is the match, this heaven designsand means; how then, oh how came I to miss _Philander_? Or he his

SYLVIA. 

_Since I writ this, which I designed not an invective againstmarriage, when I began, but to inform thee of my being where youdirected; but since I write this, I say, the house where I am isbroken open with warrants and officers for me, but being all undressedand ill, the officer has taken my word for my appearance to-morrow, itseems they saw me when I went from my lodgings, and pursued me; hasteto me, for I shall need your counsel_. 

 * * * * *

_To_ SYLVIA. 

My eternal joy, my affliction is inexpressible at the news you send meof your being surprised; I am not able to wait on thee yet--not beingsuffered to leave the cabal, I only borrow this minute to tell theethe sense of my advocate in this case; which was, if thou should betaken, there was no way, no law to save thee from being ravished frommy arms, but that of marrying thee to some body whom I can trust; thiswe have often discoursed, and thou hast often vowed thou'lt do anything rather than kill me with a separation; resolve then, oh thoucharmer of my soul, to do a deed, that though the name would frightthee, only can preserve both thee and me; it is--and though it have noother terror in it than the name, I faint to speak it--to marry, _Sylvia_; yes, thou must marry; though thou art mine as fast as heavencan make us, yet thou must marry; I have pitched upon the property, itis _Brilliard_, him I can only trust in this affair; it is but joininghands--no more, my _Sylvia_, --_Brilliard_ is a gentleman, though a_cadet_, and may be supposed to pretend to so great a happiness, andwhose only crime is want of fortune; he is handsome too, well made, well bred, and so much real esteem he has for me, and I have soobliged him, that I am confident he will pretend no farther than tothe honour of owning thee in Court; I'll time him from it, nay, hedares not do it, I will trust him with my life--but oh, _Sylvia_ ismore--think of it, and this night we will perform it, there being noother way to keep _Sylvia_ eternally

PHILANDER's. 

 * * * * *

_To_ SYLVIA. 

Now, my adorable _Sylvia_, you have truly need of all that heroicbravery of mind I ever thought thee mistress of; for _Sylvia_, comingfrom thee this morning, and riding full speed for _Paris_, I was met, stopped, and seized for high-treason by the King's messengers, andpossibly may fall a sacrifice to the anger of an incensed monarch. My_Sylvia_, bear this last shock of fate with a courage worthy thy greatand glorious soul; 'tis but a little separation, _Sylvia_, and weshall one day meet again; by heaven, I find no other sting in deathbut parting with my _Sylvia_, and every parting would have been thesame; I might have died by thy disdain, thou might'st have grown wearyof thy _Philander_, have loved another, and have broke thy vows, andtortured me to death these crueller ways: but fate is kinder to me, and I go blest with my _Sylvia_'s, love, for which heaven may domuch, for her dear sake, to recompense her faith, a maid so innocentand true to sacred love; expect the best, my lovely dear, the worsthas this comfort in it, that I shall die my charming _Sylvia_'s

PHILANDER. 

 * * * * *

_To_ PHILANDER. 

I'LL, only say, thou dear supporter of my soul, that if _Philander_dies, he shall not go to heaven without his _Sylvia_--by heaven andearth I swear it, I cannot live without thee, nor shall thou diewithout thy

SYLVIA. 

 * * * * *

_To_ SYLVIA. 

SEE, see my adorable angel, what care the powers above take of divineinnocence, true love and beauty; oh, see what they have done for theirdarling _Sylvia_; could they do less?

Know, my dear maid, that after being examined before the King, I wasfound guilty enough to be committed to the _Bastille_, (from whence, if I had gone, I had never returned, but to my death;) but themessenger, into whose hands I was committed, refusing other guards, being alone with me in my own coach, I resolved to kill, if I could noother way oblige him to favour my escape; I tried with gold before Ishewed my dagger, and that prevailed, a way less criminal, and I havetaken sanctuary in a small cottage near the sea-shore, where I waitfor _Sylvia_; and though my life depend upon my flight, nay, more, thelife of _Sylvia_, I cannot go without her; dress yourself then, mydearest, in your boy's clothes, and haste with _Brilliant_, whitherthis seaman will conduct thee, whom I have hired to set us on someshore of safety; bring what news you can learn of _Cesario_; I wouldnot have him die poorly after all his mighty hopes, nor be conductedto a scaffold with shouts of joys, by that uncertain beast the rabble, who used to stop his chariot-wheels with fickle adorations whenever helooked abroad--by heaven, I pity him; but _Sylvia_'s presence willchase away all thoughts, but those of love, from

PHILANDER. 

_I need not bid thee haste. _

_The End of the first Part. _

Love-Letters Between a Nobleman and His Sister

Part II. 

At the end of the first part of these letters, we left _Philander_impatiently waiting on the sea-shore for the approach of the lovely_Sylvia_; who accordingly came to him dressed like a youth, to secureherself from a discovery. They stayed not long to caress each other, but he taking the welcome maid in his arms, with a transported joybore her to a small vessel, that lay ready near the beach; where, withonly _Brilliard_ and two men servants, they put to sea, and passedinto _Holland_, landing at the nearest port; where, after havingrefreshed themselves for two or three days, they passed forwardstowards the _Brill_, _Sylvia_ still remaining under that amiabledisguise: but in their passage from town to town, which is sometimesby coach, and other times by boat, they chanced one day to encounter ayoung _Hollander_ of a more than ordinary gallantry for that country, so degenerate from good manners, and almost common civility, and sofar short of all the good qualities that made themselves appear inthis young nobleman. He was very handsome, well made, well dressed, and very well attended; and whom we will call _Octavio_, and who, young as he was, was one of the _States_ of _Holland_; he spokeadmirable good _French_, and had a vivacity and quickness of witunusual with the natives of that part of the world, and almost aboveall the rest of his sex: _Philander_ and _Sylvia_ having alreadyagreed for the cabin of the vessel that was to carry them to the nextstage, _Octavio_ came too late to have any place there but amongst thecommon crowd; which the master of the vessel, who knew him, was muchtroubled at, and addressed himself as civilly as he could to_Philander_, to beg permission for one stranger of quality to disposeof himself in the cabin for that day: _Philander_ being well enoughpleased, so to make an acquaintance with some of power of thatcountry, readily consented; and _Octavio_ entered with an address sograceful and obliging, that at first sight he inclined _Philander_'s, heart to a friendship with him; and on the other side the lovelyperson of _Philander_, the quality that appeared in his face and mien, obliged _Octavio_ to become no less his admirer. But when he saluted_Sylvia_, who appeared to him a youth of quality, he was extremelycharmed with her pretty gaiety, and an unusual air and life in heraddress and motion; he felt a secret joy and pleasure play about hissoul, he knew not why, and was almost angry, that he felt such anemotion for a youth, though the most lovely that he ever saw. Afterthe first compliments, they fell into discourse of a thousandindifferent things, and if he were pleased at first sight with the twolovers, he was wholly charmed by their conversation, especially thatof the amiable youth; who well enough pleased with the young stranger, or else hitherto having met nothing so accomplished in her shorttravels; and indeed despairing to meet any such; she put on all hergaiety and charms of wit, and made as absolute a conquest as it waspossible for her supposed sex to do over a man, who was a greatadmirer of the other; and surely the lovely maid never appeared socharming and desirable as that day; they dined together in the cabin;and after dinner reposed on little mattresses by each other's side, where every motion, every limb, as carelessly she lay, discovered athousand graces, and more and more enflamed the now beginning lover;she could not move, nor smile, nor speak, nor order any charm abouther, but had some peculiar grace that began to make him uneasy; andfrom a thousand little modesties, both in her blushes and motions, hehad a secret hope she was not what she seemed, but of that sex whereofshe discovered so many softnesses and beauties; though to whatadvantage that hope would amount to his repose, was yet a disquiet hehad not considered nor felt: nor could he by any fondness betweenthem, or indiscretion of love, conceive how the lovely strangers wereallied; he only hoped, and had no thoughts of fear, or any thing thatcould check his new beginning flame. While thus they passed theafternoon, they asked a thousand questions, of lovers, of the countryand manners, and their security and civility to strangers; to allwhich _Octavio_ answered as a man, who would recommend the place andpersons purely to oblige their stay; for now self-interest makes himsay all things in favour of it; and of his own friendship, offers themall the service of a man in power, and who could make an interest inthose that had more than himself; much he protested, much he offered, and yet no more than he designed to make good on all occasions, whichthey received with an acknowledgement that plainly discovered agenerosity and quality above the common rate of men; so that findingin each other occasions for love and friendship, they mutuallyprofessed it, and nobly entertained it. _Octavio_ told his name andquality, left nothing unsaid that might confirm the lovers of hissincerity. This begot a confidence in _Philander_, who in return toldhim so much of his circumstances, as sufficed to let him know he was aperson so unfortunate to have occasioned the displeasure of his kingagainst him, and that he could not continue with any repose in thatkingdom, whose monarch thought him no longer fit for those honours hehad before received: _Octavio_ renewed his protestations of servinghim with his interest and fortune, which the other receiving with allthe gallant modesty of an unfortunate man, they came ashore, where_Octavio_'s coaches and equipage waiting his coming to conduct him tohis house, he offered his new friends the best of them to carry themto their lodging, which he had often pressed might be his own palace;but that being refused as too great an honour, he would himself seethem placed in some one, which he thought might be most suitable totheir quality; they excused the trouble, but he pressed too eagerly tobe denied, and he conducted them to a merchant's house not far fromhis own, so love had contrived for the better management of this newaffair of his heart, which he resolved to pursue, be the fair objectof what sex soever: but after having well enough recommended them tothe care of the merchant, he thought it justice to leave them to theirrest, though with abundance of reluctancy; so took his leave of boththe lovely strangers, and went to his own home. And after a hastysupper got himself up to bed: not to sleep; for now he had otherbusiness: love took him now to task, and asked his heart a thousandquestions. Then it was he found the idea of that fair unknown hadabsolute possession there: nor was he at all displeased to find he wasa captive; his youth and quality promise his hopes a thousandadvantages above all other men: but when he reflected on the beauty ofPhilander, on his charming youth and conversation, and every gracethat adorns a conqueror, he grew inflamed, disordered, restless, angry, and out of love with his own attractions; considered everybeauty of his own person, and found them, or at least thought theminfinitely short of those of his now fancied rival; yet it was a rivalthat he could not hate, nor did his passion abate one thought of hisfriendship for Philander, but rather more increased it, insomuch thathe once resolved it should surmount his love if possible, at least heleft it on the upper-hand, till time should make a better discovery. When tired with thought we'll suppose him asleep, and see how ourlovers fared; who being lodged all on one stair-case (that is, Philander, Sylvia, and Brilliard) it was not hard for the lover tosteal into the longing arms of the expecting _Sylvia_; no fatigues oftedious journeys, and little voyages, had abated her fondness, or hisvigour; the night was like the first, all joy! All transport!_Brilliard_ lay so near as to be a witness to all their sighs of love, and little soft murmurs, who now began from a servant to be permittedas an humble companion; since he had had the honour of being marriedto _Sylvia_, though yet he durst not lift his eyes or thoughts thatway; yet it might be perceived he was melancholy and sullen wheneverhe saw their dalliances; nor could he know the joys his lord nightlystole, without an impatience, which, if but minded or known, perhapshad cost him his life. He began, from the thoughts she was his wife, to fancy fine enjoyment, to fancy authority which he durst not assume, and often wished his lord would grow cold, as possessing lovers do, that then he might advance his hope, when he should even abandon orslight her: he could not see her kissed without blushing withresentment; but if he has assisted to undress him for her bed, he wasready to die with anger, and would grow sick, and leave the office tohimself: he could not see her naked charms, her arms stretched out toreceive a lover, with impatient joy, without madness; to see her clasphim fast, when he threw himself into her soft, white bosom, andsmother him with kisses: no, he could not bear it now, and almost losthis respect when he beheld it, and grew saucy unperceived. And it wasin vain that he looked back upon the reward he had to stand for thatnecessary cypher a husband. In vain he considered the reasons why, andthe occasion wherefore; he now seeks precedents of usurped dominion, and thinks she is his wife, and has forgot that he is her creature, and _Philander_'s vassal. These thoughts disturbed him all the night, and a certain jealousy, or rather curiosity to listen to every motionof the lovers, while they were employed after a different manner. 

Next day it was debated what was best to be done, as to their conductin that place; or whether _Sylvia_ should yet own her sex or not; butshe, pleased with the cavalier in herself, begged she might live underthat disguise, which indeed gave her a thousand charms to those whichnature had already bestowed on her sex; and Philander was well enoughpleased she should continue in that agreeable dress, which did notonly add to her beauty, but gave her a thousand little privileges, which otherwise would have been denied to women, though in a countryof much freedom. Every day she appeared in the Tour, she failed not tomake a conquest on some unguarded heart of the fair sex: not was itlong ere she received _billets-doux_ from many of the mostaccomplished who could speak and write _French_. This gave them apleasure in the midst of her unlucky exile, and she failed not toboast her conquests to Octavio, who every day gave all his hours tolove, under the disguise of friendship, and every day received newwounds, both from her conversation and beauty, and every day confirmedhim more in his first belief, that she was a woman; and that confirmedhis love. But still he took care to hide his passion with a gallantry, that was natural to him, and to very few besides; and he managed hiseyes, which were always full of love, so equally to both, that when hewas soft and fond it appeared more his natural humour, than from anyparticular cause. And that you may believe that all the arts ofgallantry, and graces of good management were more peculiarly his thananother's, his race was illustrious, being descended from that of thePrinces of _Orange_, and great birth will shine through, and shewitself in spite of education and obscurity: but _Octavio_ had allthose additions that render a man truly great and brave; and this isthe character of him that was next undone by our unfortunate and fatalbeauty. At this rate for some time they lived thus disguised underfeigned names, _Octavio_ omitting nothing that might oblige them inthe highest degree, and hardly any thing was talked of but the new andbeautiful strangers, whose conquests in all places over the ladies arewell worthy, both for their rarity and comedy, to be related entirelyby themselves in a novel. _Octavio_ saw every day with abundance ofpleasure the little revenges of love, on those women's hearts who hadmade before little conquests over him, and strove by all the gaypresents he made a young _Fillmond_ (for so they called _Sylvia_, ) tomake him appear unresistible to the ladies; and while _Sylvia_ gavethem new wounds, _Octavio_ failed not to receive them too among thecrowd, till at last he became a confirmed slave, to the lovelyunknown; and that which was yet more strange, she captivated the menno less than the women, who often gave her _serenades_ under herwindow, with songs fitted to the courtship of a boy, all which addedto their diversion: but fortune had smiled long enough, and now grewweary of obliging, she was resolved to undeceive both sexes, and letthem see the errors of their love; for _Sylvia_ fell into a fever soviolent, that _Philander_ no longer hoped for her recovery, insomuchthat she was obliged to own her sex, and take women servants out ofdecency. This made the first discovery of who and what they were, andfor which every body languished under a secret grief. But _Octavio_, who now was not only confirmed she was a woman, but that she wasneither wife to _Philander_, nor could in almost all possibility everbe so; that she was his mistress, gave him hope that she might one dayas well be conquered by him; and he found her youth, her beauty, andher quality, merited all his pains of lavish courtship. And now thereremains no more than the fear of her dying to oblige him immediatelyto a discovery of his passion, too violent now by his new hope to belonger concealed, but decency forbids he should now pursue the deardesign; he waited and made vows for her recovery; visited her, andfound _Philander_ the most deplorable object that despair and lovecould render him, who lay eternally weeping on her bed, and no counselor persuasion could remove him thence; but if by chance they made himsensible it was for her repose, he would depart to ease his mind bynew torments, he would rave and tear his delicate hair, sigh and weepupon _Octavio_'s bosom, and a thousand times begin to unfold thestory, already known to the generous rival; despair, and hopes of pityfrom him, made him utter all: and one day, when by the advice of thephysician he was forced to quit the chamber to give her rest, hecarried _Octavio_ to his own, and told him from the beginning, all thestory of his love with the charming _Sylvia_, and with it all thestory of his fate: _Octavio_ sighing (though glad of the opportunity)told him his affairs were already but too well known, and that hefeared his safety from that discovery, since the States had obligedthemselves to harbour no declared enemy to the _French_ King. At thisnews our young unfortunate shewed a resentment that was so moving, that even _Octavio_, who felt a secret joy at the thoughts of hisdeparture, could no longer refrain from pity and tenderness, even to awish that he were less unhappy, and never to part from _Sylvia_: butlove soon grew again triumphant in his heart, and all he could saywas, that he would afford him the aids of all his power in thisencounter; which, with the acknowledgements of a lover, whose lifedepended on it, he received, and parted with him, who went to learnwhat was decreed in Council concerning him. While _Philander_ returnedto _Sylvia_, the most dejected lover that ever fate produced, when hehad not sighed away above an hour, but received a billet by_Octavio_'s page from his lord; he went to his own apartment to readit, fearing it might contain something too sad for him to be able tohold his temper at the reading of, and which would infallibly havedisturbed the repose of _Sylvia_, who shared in every cruel thought of_Philander_'s: when he was alone he opened it, and read this. 

OCTAVIO _to_ PHILANDER. 

_My Lord_, I had rather die than be the ungrateful messenger of news, which I amsensible will prove too fatal to you, and which will be best expressedin fewest words: it is decreed that you must retire from the UnitedProvinces in four and twenty hours, if you will save a life that isdear to me and _Sylvia_, there being no other security against yourbeing rendered up to the King of _France_. Support it well, and hopeall things from the assistance of your

OCTAVIO. 

_From the Council, Wednesday_. 

_Philander_ having finished the reading of this, remained a whilewholly without life or motion, when coming to himself, he sighed andcried, --'Why--farewell trifling life--if of the two extremes one mustbe chosen, rather than I'll abandon _Sylvia_, I'll stay and bedelivered up a victim to incensed _France_--It is but a life--at bestI never valued thee--and now I scorn to preserve thee at the price of_Sylvia_'s tears!' Then taking a hasty turn or two about his chamber, he pausing cried, --'But by my stay I ruin both _Sylvia_ and myself, her life depends on mine; and it is impossible hers can be preservedwhen mine is in danger: by retiring I shall shortly again be blessedwith her sight in a more safe security, by staying I resign myselfpoorly to be made a public scorn to _France_, and the cruel murdererof _Sylvia_. ' Now, it was after an hundred turns and pauses, intermixed with sighs and ravings, that he resolved for both theirsafeties to retire; and having a while longer debated within himselfhow, and where, and a little time ruminated on his hard pursuing fate, grown to a calm of grief, (less easy to be borne than rage) he hastesto _Sylvia_, whom he found something more cheerful than before, butdares not acquaint her with the commands he had to depart----Butsilently he views her, while tears of love and grief glideunperceivably from his fine eyes, his soul grows tenderer at everylook, and pity and compassion joining to his love and his despair, sethim on the wreck of life; and now believing it less pain to die thanto leave _Sylvia_, resolves to disobey, and dare the worst that shallbefall him; he had some glimmering hope, as lovers have, that somekind chance will prevent his going, or being delivered up; he trustsmuch to the friendship of _Octavio_, whose power joined with that ofhis uncle, (who was one of the _States_ also, and whom he had anascendant over, as his nephew and his heir) might serve him; hetherefore ventures to move him to compassion by this following letter. 

PHILANDER _to_ OCTAVIO. 

I know, my lord, that the exercise of virtue and justice is so innateto your soul, and fixed to the very principle of a generouscommonwealth's man, that where those are in competition, it is neitherbirth, wealth, or glorious merit, that can render the unfortunatecondemned by you, worthy of your pity or pardon: your very sons andfathers fall before your justice, and it is crime enough to offend(though innocently) the least of your wholesome laws, to fall underthe extremity of their rigour. I am not ignorant neither howflourishing this necessary tyranny, this lawful oppression rendersyour State; how safe and glorious, how secure from enemies at home, (those worst of foes) and how feared by those abroad: pursue then, sir, your justifiable method, and still be high and mighty, retainyour ancient Roman virtue, and still be great as _Rome_ herself in herheight of glorious commonwealths; rule your stubborn natives by herexcellent examples, and let the height of your ambition be only to beas severely just, as rigidly good as you please; but like her too, bepitiful to strangers, and dispense a noble charity to the distressed, compassionate a poor wandering young man, who flies to you for refuge, lost to his native home, lost to his fame, his fortune, and hisfriends; and has only left him the knowledge of his innocence tosupport him from falling on his own sword, to end an unfortunate life, pursued every where, and safe no where; a life whose only refuge is_Octavio_'s goodness; nor is it barely to preserve this life that Ihave recourse to that only as my sanctuary, and like an humble slaveimplore your pity: oh, _Octavio_, pity my youth, and intercede for mystay yet a little longer: yourself makes one of the illustrious numberof the grave, the wise and mighty Council, your uncle and relationsmake up another considerable part of it, and you are too dear to all, to find a refusal of your just and compassionate application. Oh! Whatfault have I committed against you, that I should not find a safetyhere; as well as those charged with the same crime with me, though ofless quality? Many I have encountered here of our unlucky party, whofind a safety among you: is my birth a crime? Or does the greatness ofthat augment my guilt? Have I broken any of your laws, committed anyoutrage? Do they suspect me for a spy to _France_! Or do I hold anycorrespondence with that ungrateful nation? Does my religion, principle, or opinion differ from yours? Can I design the subversionof your glorious State? Can I plot, cabal, or mutiny alone? Oh chargeme with some offence, or yourselves of injustice. Say, why am I deniedmy length of earth amongst you, if I die? Or why to breathe the openair, if I live, since I shall neither oppress the one, nor infect theother? But on the contrary am ready with my sword, my youth and bloodto serve you, and bring my little aids on all occasions to yours: andshould be proud of the glory to die for you in battle, who woulddeliver me up a sacrifice to _France_. Oh! where, _Octavio_, is theglory or virtue of this _punctilio_? For it is no other: there are nolaws that bind you to it, no obligatory article of Nations, but anunnecessary compliment made a _nemine contradicente_ of your senate, that argues nothing but ill nature, and cannot redound to any one'sadvantage; an ill nature that's levelled at me alone; for many I foundhere, and many shall leave under the same circumstances with me; it isonly me whom you have marked out the victim to atone for all: wellthen, my lord, if nothing can move you to a safety for thisunfortunate, at least be so merciful to suspend your cruelty a little, yet a little, and possibly I shall render you the body of _Philander_, though dead, to send into _France_, as the trophy of your fidelity tothat Crown: oh yet a little stay your cruel sentence, till my lovelysister, who pursued my hard fortunes, declare my fate by her life ordeath: oh, my lord, if ever the soft passion of love have touched yoursoul, if you have felt the unresistible force of young charms aboutyour heart, if ever you have known a pain and pleasure from fair eyes, or the transporting joys of beauty, pity a youth undone by love andambition, those powerful conquerors of the young----pity, oh pity ayouth that dies, and will ere long no more complain upon your rigours. Yes, my lord, he dies without the force of a terrifying sentence, without the grim reproaches of an angry judge, without the soonconsulted arbitrary----guilty of a severe and hasty jury, without theceremony of the scaffold, axe, and hangman, and the clamours ofinconsidering crowds; all which melancholy ceremonies render death soterrible, which else would fall like gentle slumbers upon theeye-lids, and which in field I would encounter with that joy I wouldthe sacred thing I love! But oh, I fear my fate is in the lovely_Sylvia_, and in her dying eyes you may read it, in her languishingface you will see how near it is approached. Ah, will you not sufferme to attend it there? By her dear side I shall fall as calmly asflowers from their stalks, without regret or pain: will you, byforcing me to die from her, run me to a madness? To wild distraction?Oh think it sufficient that I die here before half my race of youth berun, before the light be half burnt out, that might have conducted meto a world of glory! Alas, she dies=-the lovely _Sylvia_ dies; she issighing out a soul to which mine is so entirely fixed, that they mustgo upward together; yes, yes, she breathes it sick into my bosom, andkindly gives mine its disease of death: let us at least then die insilence quietly; and if it please heaven to restore the languishedcharmer, I will resign myself up to all your rigorous honour; only letme bear my treasure with me, while we wander over the world to seek usout a safety in some part of it, where pity and compassion is nocrime, where men have tender hearts, and have heard of the god oflove; where politics are not all the business of the powerful, butwhere civility and good nature reign. 

Perhaps, my lord, you will wonder I plead no weightier argument for mystay than love, or the griefs and tears of a languishing maid: but, oh! they are such tears as every drop would ransom lives, and nothingthat proceeds from her charming eyes can be valued at a less rate! Inpity to her, to me, and your amorous youths, let me bear her hence:for should she look abroad as her own sex, should she appear in hernatural and proper beauty, alas they were undone. Reproach not (mylord) the weakness of this confession, and which I make with moreglory than could I boast myself lord of all the universe: if it appeara fault to the more grave and wise, I hope my youth will pleadsomething for my excuse. Oh say, at least, it was pity that love hadthe ascendant over _Philander_'s soul, say it was his destiny, but saywithal, that it put no stop to his advance to glory; rather it set anedge upon his sword, and gave wings to his ambition!--Yes, try me inyour Councils, prove me in your camps, place me in any hazard--butgive me love! And leave me to wait the life or death of _Sylvia_, andthen dispose as you please, my lord, of your unfortunate

PHILANDER. 

 * * * * *

OCTAVIO _to_ PHILANDER. 

_My Lord_, I am much concerned, that a request so reasonable as you have made, will be of so little force with these arbitrary tyrants of State; andthough you have addressed and appealed to me as one of that grave andrigid number, (though without one grain of their formalities, and Ihope age, which renders us less gallant, and more envious of the joysand liberties of youth, will never reduce me to so dull andthoughtless a Member of State) yet I have so small and single aportion of their power, that I am ashamed of my incapacity of servingyou in this great affair. I bear the honour and the name, it is true, of glorious sway; but I can boast but of the worst and most impotentpart of it, the title only; but the busy, absolute, mischievouspolitician finds no room in my soul, my humour, or constitution; andplodding restless power I have made so little the business of my gayerand more careless youth, that I have even lost my right of rule, myshare of empire amongst them. That little power (whose unregarded lossI never bemoaned till it rendered me incapable of serving _Philander_)I have stretched to the utmost bound for your stay; insomuch that Ihave received many reproaches from the wiser coxcombs, have made myyouth's little debauches hinted on, and judgements made of you(disadvantageous) from my friendship to you; a friendship, which, mylord, at first sight of you found a being in my soul, and which yourwit, your goodness, your greatness, and your misfortunes have improvedto all the degrees of it: though I am infinitely unhappy that itproves of no use to you here, and that the greatest testimony I cannow render of it, is to warn you of your approaching danger, andhasten your departure, for there is no safety in your stay. I just nowheard what was decreed against you in Council, which no pleading, noreloquence of friendship had force enough to evade. Alas, I had but onesingle voice in the number, which I sullenly and singly gave, andwhich unregarded passed. Go then, my lord, haste to some place wheregood breeding and humanity reigns: go and preserve _Sylvia_, inproviding for your own safety; and believe me, till she be in acondition to pursue your fortunes, I will take such care that nothingshall be wanting to her recovery here, in order to her following afteryou. I am, alas, but too sensible of all the pains you must endure bysuch a separation; for I am neither insensible, nor incapable of love, or any of its violent effects: go then, my lord, and preserve thelovely maid in your flight, since your stay and danger will serve butto hasten on her death: go and be satisfied she shall find aprotection suitable to her sex, her innocence, her beauty, and herquality; and that wherever you fix your stay, she shall be resigned toyour arms by, my lord, your eternal friend and humble servant, OCTAVIO. 

_Lest in this sudden remove you should want money, I have sent youseveral Bills of Exchange to what place soever you arrive, and whatyou want more (make no scruple to use me as a friend and) command. _

After this letter finding no hopes, but on the contrary a direnecessity of departing, he told _Brilliard_ his misfortune, and askedhis counsel in this extremity of affairs. _Brilliard_, (who of aservant was become a rival) you may believe, gave him such advice asmight remove him from the object he adored. But after a great deal ofdissembled trouble, the better to hide his joy, he gave his advice forhis going, with all the arguments that appeared reasonable enough to_Philander_; and at every period urged, that his life being dear to_Sylvia_, and on which hers so immediately depended, he ought nolonger to debate, but hasten his flight: to all which counsel ouramorous hero, with a soul ready to make its way through his tremblingbody, gave a sighing unwilling assent. It was now no longer a dispute, but was concluded he must go; but how was the only question. Howshould he take his farewell? How he should bid adieu, and leave thedear object of his soul in an estate so hazardous? He formed athousand sad ideas to torment himself with fancying he should neversee her more, that he should hear that she was dead, though now sheappeared on this side the grave, and had all the signs of a decliningdisease. He fancied absence might make her cold, and abate her passionto him; that her powerful beauty might attract adorers, and she beingbut a woman, and no part angel but her form, 'twas not expected sheshould want her sex's frailties. Now he could consider how he had wonher, how by importunity and opportunity she had at last yielded tohim, and therefore might to some new gamester, when he was not by tokeep her heart in continual play: then it was that all the despair ofjealous love, the throbs and piercing of a violent passion seized histimorous and tender heart, he fancied her already in some new lover'sarms, and ran over all these soft enjoyments he had with her; andfancied with tormenting thought, that so another would possess her;till racked with tortures, he almost fainted on the repose on which hewas set: but _Brilliard_ roused and endeavoured to convince him, toldhim he hoped his fear was needless, and that he would take all thewatchful care imaginable of her conduct, be a spy upon her virtue, andfrom time to time give him notice of all that should pass! Bid himconsider her quality, and that she was no common mistress whom hirecould lead astray; and that if from the violence of her passion, orher most severe fate, she had yielded to the most charming of men, heought as little to imagine she could be again a lover, as that shecould find an object of equal beauty with that of _Philander_. Infine, he soothed and flattered him into so much ease, that he resolvesto take his leave for a day or two, under pretence of meeting andconsulting with some of the rebel party; and that he would returnagain to her by that time it might be imagined her fever might beabated, and _Sylvia_ in a condition to receive the news of his beinggone for a longer time, and to know all his affairs. While _Brilliard_prepared all things necessary for his departure, _Philander_ went to_Sylvia_; from whom, having been absent two tedious hours, she caughthim in her arms with a transport of joy, reproached him with want oflove, for being absent so long: but still the more she spoke softsighing words of love, the more his soul was seized with melancholy, his sighs redoubled, and he could not refrain from letting fall sometears upon her bosom----which _Sylvia_ perceiving, with a look and atrembling in her voice, that spoke her fears, she cried, 'Oh_Philander_! These are unusual marks of your tenderness; oh tell me, tell me quickly what they mean. ' He answered with a sigh, and she wenton--'It is so, I am undone, it is your lost vows, your broken faithyou weep; yes, _Philander_, you find the flower of my beauty faded, and what you loved before, you pity now, and these be the effects ofit. ' Then sighing, as if his soul had been departing on her neck, hecried, 'By heaven, by all the powers of love, thou art the same dearcharmer that thou wert;' then pressing her body to his bosom, hesighed anew as if his heart were breaking--'I know' (says she)'_Philander_, there is some hidden cause that gives these sighs theirway, and that dear face a paleness. Oh tell me all; for she that couldabandon all for thee, can dare the worst of fate: if thou must quitme----oh _Philander_, if it must be so, I need not stay the lingeringdeath of a feeble fever; I know a way more noble and more sudden. 'Pleased at her resolution, which almost destroyed his jealousy andfears, a thousand times he kissed her, mixing his grateful words andthanks with sighs; and finding her fair hands (which he put often tohis mouth) to increase their fires, and her pulse to be more high andquick, fearing to relapse her into her (abating) fever, he forced asmile, and told her, he had no griefs, but what she made him feel, notorments but her sickness, nor sighs but for her pain, and leftnothing unsaid that might confirm her he was still more and more herslave; and concealing his design in favour of her health, he ceasednot vowing and protesting, till he had settled her in all thetranquillity of a recovering beauty. And as since her first illness hehad never departed from her bed, so now this night he strove to appearin her arms with all that usual gaiety of love that her conditionwould permit, or his circumstances could feign, and leaving her asleepat day-break (with a force upon his soul that cannot be conceived butby parting lovers) he stole from her arms, and retiring to hischamber, he soon got himself ready for his flight, and departed. Wewill leave _Sylvia_'s ravings to be expressed by none but herself, andtell you that after about fourteen days' absence, _Octavio_ receivedthis letter from _Philander_. 

PHILANDER _to_ OCTAVIO. 

Being safely arrived at _Cologne_, and by a very pretty and luckyadventure lodged in the house of the best quality in the town, I findmyself much more at ease than I thought it possible to be without_Sylvia_, from whom I am nevertheless impatient to hear; I hopeabsence appears not so great a bugbear to her as it was imagined: forI know not what effects it would have on me to hear her griefsexceeded a few sighs and tears: those my kind absence has taught me toallow and bear without much pain, but should her love transport her toextremes of rage and despair, I fear I should quit my safety here, andgive her the last proof of my love and my compassion, throw myself ather feet, and expose my life to preserve hers. Honour would oblige meto it. I conjure you, my dear _Octavio_, by all the friendship youhave vowed me, (and which I no longer doubt) let me speedily know howshe bears my absence, for on that knowledge depends a great deal ofthe satisfaction of my life; carry her this enclosed which I have writher, and soften my silent departure, which possibly may appear rudeand unkind, plead my pardon, and give her the story of my necessity ofoffending, which none can so well relate as yourself; and from a mouthso eloquent to a maid so full of love, will soon reconcile me to herheart. With her letter I send you a bill to pay her 2000 patacons, which I have paid _Vander Hanskin_ here, as his letter will informyou, as also those bills I received of you at my departure, havingbeen supplied by an _English_ merchant here, who gave me credit. Itwill be an age, till I hear from you, and receive the news of thehealth of _Sylvia_, than which two blessings nothing will be morewelcome to, generous _Octavio_, your

PHILANDER. 

_Direct your letters for me to your merchant_ Vander Hanskin. 

 * * * * *

PHILANDER _to_ SYLVIA. 

There is no way left to gain my _Sylvia_'s pardon for leaving her, andleaving her in such circumstances, but to tell her it was to preservea life which I believed entirely dear to her; but that unhappy crimeis too severely punished by the cruelties of my absence: believe me, lovely _Sylvia_, I have felt all your pains, I have burnt with yourfever, and sighed with your oppressions; say, has my pain abatedyours? Tell me, and hasten my health by the assurance of yourrecovery, or I have fled in vain from those dear arms to save my life, of which I know not what account to give you, till I receive from youthe knowledge of your perfect health, the true state of mine. I canonly say I sigh, and have a sort of a being in _Cologne_, where I havesome more assurance of protection than I could hope I from thoseinterested brutes, who sent me from you; yet brutish as they are, Iknow thou art safe from their clownish outrages. For were theysenseless as their fellow-monsters of the sea, they durst not profaneso pure an excellence as thine; the sullen boars would jouder out awelcome to thee, and gape, I and wonder at thy awful beauty, thoughthey want the tender sense to know to what use it was made. Or if Idoubted their humanity, I cannot the friendship of _Octavio_, since hehas given me too good a proof of it, to leave me any fear that hehas not in my absence pursued those generous sentiments for _Sylvia_, which he vowed to _Philander_, and of which this first proof must behis relating the necessity of my absence, to set me well with myadorable maid, who, better than I, can inform her; and that I ratherchose to quit you only for a short space, than reduce myself to thenecessity of losing you eternally. Let the satisfaction this ought togive you retrieve your health and beauty, and put you into a conditionof restoring to me all my joys; that by pursuing the dictates of yourlove, you may again bring the greatest happiness on earth to the armsof your

PHILANDER. 

POSTSCRIPT. 

_My affairs here are yet so unsettled, that I can take no order foryour coming to me; but as soon as I know where I can fix with safety, I shall make it my business and my happiness: adieu. Trust_ Octavio_, with your letters only. _

This letter _Octavio_ would not carry himself to her, who had omittedno day, scarce an hour, wherein he saw not or sent not to the charming_Sylvia_; but he found in that which _Philander_ had writ to him anair of coldness altogether unusual with that passionate lover, andinfinitely short in point of tenderness to those he had formerly seenof his, and from what he had heard him speak; so that he no longerdoubted (and the rather because he hoped it) but that _Philander_found an abatement of that heat, which was wont to inspire at a moreamorous rate: this appearing declension he could not conceal from_Sylvia_, at least to let her know he took notice of it; for he knewher love was too quick-sighted and sensible to pass it unregarded; buthe with reason thought, that when she should find others observe thelittle slight she had put on her, her pride (which is natural to womenin such cases) would decline and lessen her love for his rival. Hetherefore sent his page with the letters enclosed in this fromhimself. 

OCTAVIO _to_ SYLVIA. 

_Madam_, From a little necessary debauch I made last night with the Prince, Iam forced to employ my page in those duties I ought to have performedmyself: he brings you, madam, a letter from _Philander_, as mine, which I have also sent you, informs me; I should else have doubted it;it is, I think, his character, and all he says of _Octavio_ confessesthe friend, but where he speaks of _Sylvia_ sure he disguises thelover: I wonder the mask should be put on now to me, to whom before heso frankly discovered the secrets of his amorous heart. It is amystery I would fain persuade myself he finds absolutely necessary tohis interest, and I hope you will make the same favourableconstructions of it, and not impute the lessened zeal wherewith hetreats the charming _Sylvia_ to any possible change or coldness, sinceI am but too fatally sensible, that no man can arrive at the glory ofbeing beloved by you, that had ever power to shorten one link of thatdear chain that holds him, and you need but survey that adorable face, to confirm your tranquillity; set a just value on your charms, and youneed no arguments to secure your everlasting empire, or to establishit in what heart you please. This fatal truth I learned from your faireyes, ere they discovered to me your sex, and you may as soon changeto what I then believed you, as I from adoring what I now find you: ifall then, madam, that do but look on you become your slaves, andlanguish for you, love on, even without hope, and die, what must_Philander_ pay you, who has the mighty blessing of your love, yourvows, and all that renders the hours of amorous youth, sacred, glad, and triumphant? But you know the conquering power of your charms toowell to need either this daring confession, or a defence of_Philander_'s virtue from, madam, your obedient slave, OCTAVIO. 

_Sylvia_ had no sooner read this with blushes, and a thousand fears, and trembling of what was to follow in _Philander_'s letters both to_Octavio_ and to herself, but with an indignation agreeable to herhaughty soul, she cried--'How--slighted! And must _Octavio_ see ittoo! By heaven, if I should find it true, he shall not dare to thinkit. ' Then with a generous rage she broke open _Philander_'s, letter;and which she soon perceived did but too well prove the truth of_Octavio_'s suspicion, and her own fears. She repeated it again andagain, and still she found more cause of grief and anger; loveoccasioned the first, and pride the last; and, to a soul perfectlyhaughty, as was that of _Sylvia_, it was hard to guess which had theascendant: she considered _Octavio_ to all the advantages that thoughtcould conceive in one, who was not a lover of him; she knew hemerited a heart, though she had none to give him; she found himcharming without having a tenderness for him; she found him youngand amorous without desire towards him; she found him great, rich, powerful and generous without designing on him; and though sheknew her soul free from all passion, but that for _Philander_, nevertheless she blushed and was angry, that he had thoughts no moreadvantageous to the power of those charms, which she wish'd mightappear to him above her sex, it being natural to women to desireconquests, though they hate the conquered; to glory in the triumph, though they despise the slave: and she believed, while _Octavio_ hadso poor a sense of her beauty as to believe it could be forsaken, hewould adore it less: and first, to satisfy her pride, she left thesofter business of her heart to the next tormenting hour, and sent himthis careless answer by his page, believing, if she valued hisopinion; and therefore dissembled her thoughts, as women in thosecases ever do, who when most angry seem the most galliard, especiallywhen they have need of the friendship of those they flatter. 

SYLVIA _to_ OCTAVIO. 

Is it indeed, _Octavio_, that you believe _Philander_ cold, or wouldyou make that a pretext to the declaration of your own passion? We_French_ ladies are not so nicely tied up to the formalities ofvirtue, but we can hear love at both ears: and if we receive not theaddresses of both, at least we are perhaps vain enough not to bedispleased to find we make new conquests. But you have made yourattack with so ill conduct, that I shall find force enough withoutmore aids to repulse you. Alas, my lord, did you believe my heart wasleft unguarded when _Philander_ departed? No, the careful charminglover left a thousand little gods to defend it, of no less power thanhimself; young deities, who laugh at all your little arts andtreacheries, and scorn to resign their empire to any feeble _Cupids_you can draw up against them: your thick foggy air breeds love toodull and heavy for noble flights, nor can I stoop to them. The_Flemish_ boy wants arrows keen enough for hearts like mine, and is abungler in his art, too lazy and remiss, rather a heavy _Bacchus_ thana _Cupid_, a bottle sends him to his bed of moss, where he sleepshard, and never dreams of _Venus_. 

How poorly have you paid yourself, my lord, (by this pursuit of yourdiscovered love) for all the little friendship you have rendered me!How well you have explained, you can be no more a lover than a friend, if one may judge the first by the last! Had you been thus obstinate inyour passion before _Philander_ went, or you had believed meabandoned, I should perhaps have thought that you had loved indeed, because I should have seen you durst, and should have believed ittrue, because it ran some hazards for me, the resolution of it wouldhave reconciled me then to the temerity of it, and the greatestdemonstration you could have given of it, would have been the dangeryou would have ran and contemned, and the preference of your passionabove any other consideration. This, my lord, had been generous andlike a lover; but poorly thus to set upon a single woman in thedisguise of a friend, in the dark silent melancholy hour of absencefrom _Philander_, then to surprise me, then to bid me deliver! to padfor hearts! It is not like _Octavio_, _Octavio_ that _Philander_ madehis friend, and for whose dear sake, my lord, I will no fartherreproach you, but from a goodness, which, I hope, you will merit, Iwill forgive an offence, which your ill-timing has rendered almostinexcusable, and expect you will for the future consider better howyou ought to treat

SYLVIA. 

As soon as she had dismissed the page, she hasted to her business oflove, and again read over _Philander_'s, letter, and finding still newoccasion for fear, she had recourse to pen and paper for a relief ofthat heart which no other way could find; and after having wiped thetears from her eyes, she writ this following letter. 

SYLVIA _to_ PHILANDER. 

Yes, _Philander_, I have received your letter, and but I found my namethere, should have hoped it was not meant for _Sylvia_! Oh! It is allcold--short--short and cold as a dead winter's day. It chilled myblood, it shivered every vein. Where, oh where hast thou lavished outall those soft words so natural to thy soul, with which thou usedst tocharm; so tuned to the dear music of thy voice? What is become of allthe tender things, which, as I used to read, made little nimblepantings in my heart, my blushes rise, and tremblings in my blood, adding new fire to the poor burning victim! Oh where are all thypretty flatteries of love, that made me fond and vain, and set a valueon this trifling beauty? Hast thou forgot thy wondrous art of loving?Thy pretty cunnings, and thy soft deceivings? Hast thou forgot themall? Or hast thou forgot indeed to love at all? Has thy industriouspassion gathered all the sweets, and left the rifled flower to hangits withered head, and die in I shades neglected? For who will prizeit now, now when all its I perfumes are fled? Oh my _Philander_, oh mycharming fugitive! Was it not enough you left me, like false_Theseus_, on the shore, on the forsaken shore, departed from my fond, my clasping arms; where I believed you safe, secure and pleased, whensleep and night, that favoured you and ruined me, had rendered themincapable of their dear loss! Oh was it not enough, that when I foundthem empty and abandoned, and the place cold where you had lain, andmy poor trembling bosom unpossessed of that dear load it bore, that Ialmost expired with my first fears? Oh, if _Philander_ loved, he wouldhave thought that cruelty enough, without the sad addition of agrowing coldness: I awaked, I missed thee, and I called aloud, '_Philander_! my _Philander_!' But no Philander heard; then drew theclose-drawn curtains, and with a hasty and busy view surveyed thechamber over; but oh! In vain I viewed, and called yet louder, butnone appeared to my assistance but _Antonet_ and _Brilliard_, totorture me with dull excuses, urging a thousand feigned and frivolousreasons to satisfy my fears: but I, who loved, who doted even tomadness, by nature soft, and timorous as a dove, and fearful as acriminal escaped, that dreads each little noise, fancied their eyesand guilty looks confessed the treasons of their hearts and tongues, while they, more kind than true, strove to convince my killing doubts, protested that you would return by night, and feigned a likely storyto deceive. Thus between hope and fear I languished out a day; ohheavens! A tedious day without _Philander_: who would have thoughtthat such a dismal day should not, with the end of its reign, havefinished that of my life! But then _Octavio_ came to visit me, and whotill then I never wished to see, but now I was impatient for hiscoming, who by degrees told me that you were gone--I never asked himwhere, or how, or why; that you were gone was enough to possess me ofall I feared, your being apprehended and sent into _France_, yourdelivering yourself up, your abandoning me; all, all I had an easyfaith for, without consulting more than that thou wert gone--that veryword yet strikes a terror to my soul, disables my trembling hand, andI must wait for reinforcements from some kinder thoughts. But, oh!From whence should they arrive? From what dear present felicity, orprospect of a future, though never so distant, and all those past onesserve but to increase my pain; they favour me no more, they charm andplease no more, and only present themselves to my memory to completethe number of my sighs and tears, and make me wish that they had neverbeen, though even with _Philander_? Oh! say, thou monarch of mypanting soul, how hast thou treated _Sylvia_, to make her wish thatshe had never known a tender joy with thee? Is it possible she shouldrepent her loving thee, and thou shouldst give her cause! Say, dearfalse charmer, is it? But oh, there is no lasting faith insin!----Ah--What have I done? How dreadful is the scene of my firstdebauch, and how glorious that never to be regained prospect of myvirgin innocence, where I sat enthroned in awful virtue, crowned withshining honour, and adorned with unsullied reputation, till thou, Otyrant _Love_, with a charming usurpation invaded all my glories; andwhich I resigned with greater pride and joy than a young monarch putsthem on. Oh! Why then do I repent? As if the vast, the dear expense ofpleasures past were not enough to recompense for all the pains of loveto come? But why, oh why do I treat thee as a lover lost already? Thouart not, canst not; no, I will not believe it, till thou thyselfconfess it: nor shall the omission of a tender word or two make mebelieve thou hast forgot thy vows. Alas, it may be I mistake thycares, thy hard fatigues of life, thy present ill circumstances (andall the melancholy effects of thine and my misfortunes) for coldnessand declining love. Alas, I had forgot my poor my dear _Philander_ isnow obliged to contrive for life as well as love, thou perhaps(fearing the worst) are preparing eloquence for a council table; andin thy busy and guilty imaginations haranguing it to the grave judges, defending thy innocence, or evading thy guilt: feeing advocates, excepting juries, and confronting witnesses, when thou shouldst begiving satisfaction to my fainting love-sick heart: sometimes in thylabouring fancy the horror of a dreadful sentence for an ignominiousdeath, strikes upon thy tender soul with a force that frights thelittle god from thence, and I am persuaded there are some moments ofthis melancholy nature, wherein your _Sylvia_ is even quite forgotten, and this too she can think just and reasonable, without reproachingthy heart with a declining passion, especially when I am not by tocall thy fondness up, and divert thy more tormenting hours: but oh, for those soft minutes thou hast designed for love, and hast dedicatedto _Sylvia, Philander_ should dismiss the dull formalities of rigidbusiness, the pressing cares of dangers, and have given a loose tosoftness. Could my _Philander_ imagine this short and unloving lettersufficient to atone for such an absence? And has _Philander_ thenforgotten the pain with which I languished, when but absent from himan hour? How then can he imagine I can live, when distant from him somany leagues, and so many days? While all the scanty comfort I havefor life is, that one day we might meet again; but where, or when, orhow-thou hast not love enough so much as to divine; but poorly leavestme to be satisfied by _Octavio_, committing the business of thy heart, the once great importance of thy soul, the most necessary devoirs ofthy life, to be supplied by another. Oh _Philander_, I have known ablessed time in our reign of love, when thou wouldst have thought evenall thy own power of too little force to satisfy the doubting soul of_Sylvia_: tell me, _Philander_, hast thou forgot that time? I dare notthink thou hast, and yet (O God) I find an alteration, but heavendivert the omen: yet something whispers to my soul, I am undone! Oh, where art thou, my _Philander_? Where is thy heart? And what has itbeen doing since it begun my fate? How can it justify thy coldness, and thou this cruel absence, without accounting with me for everyparting hour? My charming dear was wont to find me business for all mylonely absent ones; and writ the softest letters--loading the paperwith fond vows and wishes, which ere I had read over another wouldarrive, to keep eternal warmth about my soul; nor wert thou everwearied more with writing, than I with reading, or with sighing afterthee; but now--oh! There is some mystery in it I dare not understand. Be kind at least and satisfy my fears, for it is a wondrous pain tolive in doubt; if thou still lovest me, swear it over anew! And curseme if I do not credit thee. But if thou art declining--or shouldst besent a shameful victim into _France_--oh thou deceiving charmer, yetbe just, and let me know my doom: by heaven this last will find awelcome to me, for it will end the torment of my doubts and fears oflosing thee another way, and I shall have the joy to die with thee, die beloved, and die

Thy SYLVIA. 

Having read over this letter, she feared she had said too much of herdoubts and apprehensions of a change in him; for now she flies to allthe little stratagems and artifices of lovers, she begins to considerthe worst, and to make the best of that; but quite abandoned she couldnot believe herself, without flying into all the rage thatdisappointed woman could be possessed with. She calls _Brilliard_, shews him his lord's letters, and told him, (while he read) her doubtsand fears; he being thus instructed by herself in the way how todeceive her on, like fortune-tellers, who gather people's fortune fromthemselves, and then return it back for their own divinity; tells herhe saw indeed a change! Glad to improve her fear, and feigns a sorrowalmost equal to hers: 'It is evident, ' says he, 'it is evident, thathe is the most ungrateful of his sex! Pardon, madam, ' (continued he, bowing) 'if my zeal for the most charming creature on earth, make meforget my duty to the best of masters and friends. ' 'Ah, _Brilliard_, 'cried she, with an air of languishment that more enflamed him, 'have acare, lest that mistaken zeal for me should make you profane virtue, which has not, but on this occasion, shewed that it wanted angels forits guard. Oh, _Brilliard_, if he be false--if the dear man beperjured, take, take, kind heaven, the life you have preserved but fora greater proof of your revenge'----and at that word she sunk into hisarms, which he hastily extended as she was falling, both to save herfrom harm, and to give himself the pleasure of grasping the loveliestbody in the world to his bosom, on which her fair face declined, cold, dead, and pale; but so transporting was the pleasure of that dearburden, that he forgot to call for, or to use any aid to bring herback to life, but trembling with his love and eager passion, he took athousand joys, he kissed a thousand times her lukewarm lips, suckedher short sighs, and ravished all the sweets, her bosom (which was butguarded with a loose night-gown) yielded his impatient touches. Ohheaven, who can express the pleasures he received, because no otherway he ever could arrive to so much daring? It was all beyond hishope; loose were her robes, insensible the maid, and love had made himinsolent, he roved, he kissed, he gazed, without control, forgettingall respect of persons, or of place, and quite despairing by fairmeans to win her, resolves to take this lucky opportunity; the door heknew was fast, for the counsel she had to ask him admitted of nolookers-on, so that at his entrance she had secured the pass for himherself, and being near her bed, when she fell into his arms, at thislast daring thought he lifts her thither, and lays her gently down, and while he did so, in one minute ran over all the killing joys hehad been witness to, which she had given _Philander_; on which henever paus'd, but urged by a _Cupid_ altogether malicious and wicked, he resolves his cowardly conquest, when some kinder god awakened_Sylvia_, and brought _Octavio_ to the chamber door; who having beenused to a freedom, which was permitted to none but himself, with_Antonet_ her woman, waiting for admittance, after having knockedtwice softly, _Brittiard_ heard it, and redoubled his disorder, whichfrom that of love, grew to that of surprise; he knew not what to do, whether to refuse answering, or to re-establish the reviving sense of_Sylvia_; in this moment of perplexing thought he failed not howeverto set his hair in order, and adjust him, though there were no need ofit, and stepping to the door (after having raised _Sylvia_, leaningher head on her hand on the bed-side, ) he gave admittance to_Octavio_; but, oh heaven, how was he surprised when he saw it was_Octavio_? His heart with more force than before redoubled its beats, that one might easily perceive every stroke by the motion of hiscravat; he blushed, which, to a complexion perfectly fair, as that of_Brilliard_ (who wants no beauty, either in face or person) was themore discoverable, add to this his trembling, and you may easilyimagine what a figure he represented himself to _Octavio_; who almostas much surprised as himself to find the goddess of his vows anddevotions with a young _Endymion_ alone, a door shut to, her gownloose, which (from the late fit she was in, and _Brilliard_'s rapeupon her bosom) was still open, and discovered a world of unguardedbeauty, which she knew not was in view, with some other disorders ofher headcloths, gave him in a moment a thousand false apprehensions:_Antonet_ was no less surprised; so that all had their part ofamazement but the innocent _Sylvia_, whose eyes were beautified with amelancholy calm, which almost set the generous lover at ease, and tookaway his new fears; however, he could not choose but ask _Brilliard_what the matter was with him, he looked so out of countenance, andtrembled so? He told him how _Sylvia_ had been, and what extremefrights she had possessed him with, and told him the occasion, whichthe lovely _Sylvia_ with her eyes and sighs assented to, and_Brilliard_ departed; how well pleased you may imagine, or with whatgusto he left her to be with the lovely _Octavio_, whom he perceivedtoo well was a lover in the disguise of a friend. But there are inlove those wonderful lovers who can quench the fire one beauty kindleswith some other object, and as much in love as _Brilliard_ was, hefound _Antonet_ an antidote that dispelled the grosser part of it; forshe was in love with our amorous friend, and courted him with thatpassion those of that country do almost all handsome strangers; andone convenient principle of the religion of that country is, to thinkit no sin to be kind while they are single women, though otherwise(when wives) they are just enough, nor does a woman that manages heraffairs thus discreetly meet with any reproach; of this humour was our_Antonet_, who pursued her lover out, half jealous there might be someamorous intrigue between her lady and him, which she sought in vain byall the feeble arts of her country's sex to get from him; while on theother side he believing she might be of use in the farther discoveryhe desired to make between _Octavio_ and _Sylvia_, not only told hershe herself was the object of his wishes, but gave her substantialproofs on it, and told her his design, after having her honour forsecurity that she would be secret, the best pledge a man can take of awoman: after she had promised to betray all things to him, shedeparted to her affairs, and he to giving his lord an account of_Sylvia_, as he desired, in a letter which came to him with that of_Sylvia_; and which was thus:

PHILANDER _to_ BRILLIARD. 

I doubt not but you will wonder that all this time you have not heardof me, nor indeed can well excuse it, since I have been in a placewhence with ease I could have sent every post; but a new affair ofgallantry has engaged my thoughtful hours, not that I find any passionhere that has abated one sigh for _Sylvia_; but a man's hours are verydull, when undiverted by an intrigue of some kind or other, especiallyto a heart young and gay as mine is, and which would not, if possible, bend under the fatigues of more serious thought and business; I shouldnot tell you this, but that I would have you say all the dilatoryexcuses that possibly you can to hinder _Sylvia_'s coming to me, whileI remain in this town, where I design to make my abode but a shorttime, and had not stayed at all, but for this stop to my journey, andI scorn to be vanquished without taking my revenge; it is a sally ofyouth, no more--a flash, that blazes for a while, and will go outwithout enjoyment. I need not bid you keep this knowledge to yourself, for I have had too good a confirmation of your faith and friendship todoubt you now, and believe you have too much respect for _Sylvia_ tooccasion her any disquiet. I long to know how she takes my absence, send me at large of all that passes, and give your letters to_Octavio_, for none else shall know where I am, or how to send to me:be careful of _Sylvia_, and observe her with diligence, for possibly Ishould not be extravagantly afflicted to find she was inclined to loveme less for her own ease and mine, since love is troublesome when theheight of it carries it to jealousies, little quarrels, and eternaldiscontents; all which beginning lovers prize, and pride themselves onevery distrust of the fond mistress, since it is not only ademonstration of love in them, but of power and charms in us thatoccasion it. But when we no longer find the mistress so desirable, asour first wishes form her, we value less their opinion of our persons, and only endeavour to render it agreeable to new beauties, and adornit for new conquests; but you, _Brilliard_, have been a lover, andunderstand already this philosophy. I need say no more then to a manwho knows so well my soul, but to tell him I am his constant friend. 

PHILANDER. 

This came as _Brilliard_'s soul could wish, and had he sent him wordhe had been chosen King of _Poland_, he could not have received thenews with so great joy, and so perfect a welcome. How to manage thisto his best advantage was the business he was next to consult, afterreturning an answer; now he fancied himself sure of the lovely prize, in spite of all other oppositions: 'For' (says he, in reasoning thecase) 'if she can by degrees arrive to a coldness to _Philander_, andconsider him no longer as a lover, she may perhaps consider me as ahusband; or should she receive _Octavio_'s addresses, when once I havefound her feeble, I will make her pay me for keeping of every secret. 'So either way he entertained a hope, though never so distant fromreason and probability; but all things seem possible to longinglovers, who can on the least hope resolve to out-wait even eternity(if possible) in expectation of a promised blessing; and now with morethan usual care he resolved to dress, and set out all his youth andbeauty to the best advantage; and being a gentleman well born, hewanted no arts of dressing, nor any advantage of shape or mien, tomake it appear well: pleased with this hope, his art was now how tomake his advances without appearing to have designed doing so. Andfirst to act the hypocrite with his lord was his business; for heconsidered rightly, if he should not represent _Sylvia_'s sorrows tothe life, and appear to make him sensible of them, he should not beafter credited if he related any thing to her disadvantage; for to bethe greater enemy, you ought to seem to be the greatest friend. Thiswas the policy of his heart, who in all things was inspired withfanatical notions. In order to this, being alone in his chamber, afterthe defeat he had in that of _Sylvia_'s, he writ this letter. 

BRILLIARD _to_ PHILANDER. 

_My Lord, _

You have done me the honour to make me your confidant in an affairthat does not a little surprise me; since I believed, after _Sylvia_, no mortal beauty could have touched your heart, and nothing but yourown excuses could have sufficed to have made it reasonable; and I onlywish, that when the fatal news shall arrive to _Sylvia_'s ear (as forme it never shall) that she may think it as pardonable as I do; but Idoubt it will add abundance of grief to what she is already possessedof, if but such a fear should enter in her tender thoughts. But sinceit is not my business, my lord, to advise or counsel, but to obey, Ileave you to all the success of happy love, and will only give you anaccount how affairs stand here, since your departure. 

That morning you left the _Brill_, and _Sylvia_ in bed, I must disturbyour more serene thoughts with telling you, that her first surpriseand griefs at the news of your departure were most deplorable, whereraging madness and the softer passion of love, complaints of grief, and anger, sighs, tears and cries were so mixed together, and by turnsso violently seized her, that all about her wept and pitied her: itwas sad, it was wondrous sad, my lord, to see it: nor could we hopeher life, or that she would preserve it if she could; for by many waysshe attempted to have released herself from pain by a violent death, and those that strove to preserve that, could not hope she would everhave returned to sense again: sometimes a wild extravagant ravingwould require all our aid, and then again she would talk and rail sotenderly----and express her resentment in the kindest softest wordsthat ever madness uttered, and all of her _Philander_, till she hasset us all a weeping round her; sometimes she'd sit as calm and stillas death, and we have perceived she lived only by sighs and silenttears that fell into her bosom; then on a sudden wildly gaze upon uswith eyes that even then had wondrous charms, and frantically surveyus all, then cry aloud, 'Where is my Lord _Philander_!----Oh, bring memy _Philander_, _Brilliard_: Oh, _Antonet_, where have you hid thetreasure of my soul?' Then, weeping floods of tears, would sink allfainting in our arms. Anon with trembling words and sighs she'dcry----'But oh, my dear _Philander_ is no more, you have surrenderedhim to _France_----Yes, yes, you have given him up, and he must die, publicly die, be led a sad victim through the joyful crowd--reproached, and fall ingloriously----' Then rave again, and tear her lovely hair, and act such wildness, --so moving and so sad, as even infected thepitying beholders, and all we could do, was gently to persuade hergrief, and soothe her raving fits; but so we swore, so heartily wevowed that you were safe, that with the aid of _Octavio_, who camethat day to visit her, we made her capable of hearing a little reasonfrom us. _Octavio_ kneeled, and begged she would but calmly hear himspeak, he pawned his soul, his honour, and his life, _Philander_ wasas safe from any injury, either from _France_, or any other enemy, ashe, as she, or heaven itself. In fine, my lord, he vowed, he swore, and pleaded, till she with patience heard him tell his story, and thenecessity of your absence; this brought her temper back, and driedher eyes, then sighing, answered him----that if for your safety youwere fled, she would forgive your cruelty and your absence, andendeavour to be herself again: but then she would a thousand timesconjure him not to deceive her faith, by all the friendship that hebore _Philander_, not to possess her with false hopes; then would heswear anew; and as he swore, she would behold him with such charmingsadness in her eyes that he almost forgot what he would say, to gazeupon her, and to pass his pity. But, if with all his power of beautyand of rhetoric he left her calm, he was no sooner gone, but shereturned to all the tempests of despairing love, to all the unbeliefof faithless passion, would neither sleep, nor eat, nor suffer dayto enter; but all was sad and gloomy as the vault that held the_Ephesian_ matron, nor suffered she any to approach her but herpage, and Count _Octavio_, and he in the midst of all was wellreceived: not that I think, my lord, she feigned any part of thatclose retirement to entertain him with any freedom, that did notbecome a woman of perfect love and honour; though I must own, my lord, I believe it impossible for him to behold the lovely _Sylvia_, withouthaving a passion for her. What restraint his friendship to you may putupon his heart or tongue I know not, but I conclude him a lover, though without success; what effects that may have upon the heart of_Sylvia_, only time can render an account of: and whose conduct Ishall the more particularly observe from a curiosity natural to me, tosee if it may be possible for _Sylvia_ to love again, after theadorable _Philander_, which levity in one so perfect would cure me ofthe disease of love, while I lived amongst the fickle sex: but sinceno such thought can yet get possession of my belief, I humbly beg yourlordship will entertain no jealousy, that may be so fatal to yourrepose, and to that of _Sylvia_; doubt not but my fears proceedperfectly from the zeal I have for your lordship, for whose honour andtranquillity none shall venture so far as, my lord, your lordship'smost humble and obedient servant, BRILLIARD. 

POSTSCRIPT. 

_My lord, the groom shall set forward with your coach horses tomorrowmorning, according to your order_. 

Having writ this, he read it over; not to see whether it were witty oreloquent, or writ up to the sense of so good a judge as _Philander_, but to see whether he had cast it for his purpose; for there hismasterpiece was to be shewn; and having read it, he doubted whetherthe relation of _Sylvia_'s griefs were not too moving, and whetherthey might not serve to revive his fading love, which were intendedonly as a demonstration of his own pity and compassion, that fromthence the deceived lover might with the more ease entertain a beliefin what he hinted of her levity, when he was to make that out, as henow had but touched upon it, for he would not have it thought thebusiness of malice to _Sylvia_, but duty and respect to _Philander_:that thought reconciled him to the first part without alteration; andhe fancied he had said enough in the latter, to give any man of loveand sense a jealousy which might inspire a young lover in pursuit of anew mistress, with a revenge that might wholly turn to his advantage;for now every ray gave him light enough to conduct him to hope, and hebelieved nothing too difficult for his love, nor what his inventioncould not conquer: he fancied himself a very _Machiavel_ already, andalmost promised himself the charming _Sylvia_. With these thoughts heseals up his letters, and hastes to _Sylvia_'s chamber for her farthercommands, having in his politic transports forgotten he had left_Octavio_ with her. _Octavio_, who no sooner had seen _Brilliard_ quitthe chamber all trembling and disordered, after having given himentrance, but the next step was to the feet of the new recoveredlanguishing beauty, who not knowing any thing of the freedom thedaring husband lover had taken, was not at all surprised to hear_Octavio_ cry (kneeling before her) 'Ah madam, I no longer wonder youuse _Octavio_ with such rigour;' then sighing declined his melancholyeyes, where love and jealousy made themselves too apparent; while shebelieving he had only reproached her want of ceremony at his entrance, checking herself, she started from the bed, and taking him by the handto raise him, she cried, 'Rise, my lord, and pardon the omission ofthat respect which was not wanting but with even life itself. '_Octavio_ answered, 'Yes, madam, but you took care, not to make theworld absolutely unhappy in your eternal loss, and therefore madechoice of such a time to die in, when you were sure of a skilfulperson at hand to bring you back to life'--'My lord----' said she(with an innocent wonder in her eyes, and an ignorance that did notapprehend him) 'I mean, _Brilliard_, ' said he, 'whom I foundsufficiently disordered to make me believe he took no little pains torestore you to the world again. ' This he spoke with such an air, aseasily made her imagine he was a lover to the degree of jealousy, andtherefore (beholding him with a look that told him her disdain beforeshe spoke) she replied hastily, 'My lord, if _Brilliard_ haveexpressed, by any disorder or concern, his kind sense of mysufferings, I am more obliged to him for it, than I am to you for youropinion of my virtue; and I shall hereafter know how to set a valueboth on the one and the other, since what he wants in quality andability to serve me, he sufficiently makes good with his respect andduty. ' At that she would have quitted him, but he (still kneeling)held her train of her gown, and besought her, with all the eloquenceof moving and petitioning love, that she would pardon the effect of apassion that could not run into less extravagancy at a sight so newand strange, as that she should in a morning, with only her night-gownthrown loosely about her lovely body, and which left a thousand charmsto view, alone receive a man into her chamber, and make fast the doorupon them, which when (from his importunity) it was opened he foundher all ruffled, and almost fainting on her bed, and a young blushingyouth start from her arms, with trembling limbs, and a heart that beattime to the tune of active love, faltering in his speech, as if scarceyet he had recruited the sense he had so happily lost in the amorousencounter: with that, surveying of herself, as she stood, in a greatglass, which she could not hinder herself from doing, she found indeedher night-linen, her gown, and the bosom of her shift in suchdisorder, as, if at least she had yet any doubt remaining that_Brilliard_ had not treated her well, she however found cause enoughto excuse _Octavio_'s opinion: weighing all the circumstancestogether, and adjusting her linen and gown with blushes that almostappeared criminal, she turned to _Octavio_, who still held her, andstill begged her pardon, assuring him, upon her honour, her love to_Philander_, and her friendship for him, that she was perfectlyinnocent, and that _Brilliard_, though he should have quality and allother advantages which he wanted to render him acceptable, yet therewas in nature something which compelled her to a sort of coldness anddisgust to his person; for she had so much the more abhorrence to himas he was a husband, but that was a secret to _Octavio_; but shecontinued speaking--and cried, 'No, could I be brought to yield to anybut _Philander_, I own I find charms enough in _Octavio_ to make aconquest; but since the possession of that dear man is all I ask ofheaven, I charge my soul with a crime, when I but hear love from anyother, therefore I conjure you, if you have any satisfaction in myconversation, never to speak of love more to me, for if you do, honourwill oblige me to make vows against seeing you: all the freedoms offriendship I will allow, give you the liberties of a brother, admityou alone by night, or any way but that of love; but that is a reserveof my soul which is only for _Philander_, and the only one that evershall be kept from _Octavio_. ' She ended speaking, and raised him witha smile; and he with a sigh told her, she must command: then she fellto telling him how she had sent for _Brilliard_, and all the discoursethat passed; with the reason of her falling into a swoon, in which shecontinued a moment or two; and while she told it she blushed with asecret fear, that in that trance some freedoms might be taken whichshe durst not confess: but while she spoke, our still more passionatelover devoured her with his eyes, fixed his very soul upon her charmsof speaking and looking, and was a thousand times (urged bytransporting passion) ready to break all her dictates, and vow himselfher eternal slave; but he feared the result, and therefore kepthimself within the bounds of seeming friendship; so that after athousand things she said of _Philander_, he took his leave to go todinner; but as he was going out he saw _Brilliard_ enter, who, as Isaid, had forgot he left _Octavio_ with her; but in a momentrecollecting himself, he blushed at the apprehension, that they mightmake his disorder the subject of their discourse; so what with that, and the sight of the dear object of his late disappointed pleasures, he had much ado to assume an assurance to approach; but _Octavio_passed out, and gave him a little release. _Sylvia_'s confusion wasalmost equal to his, for she looked on him as a ravisher; but how tofind that truth which she was very curious to know, she called up allthe arts of women to instruct her in; by threats she knew it was invain, therefore she assumed an artifice, which indeed was almost astranger to her heart, that of jilting him out of a secret which sheknew he wanted generosity to give handsomely; and meeting him with asmile, which she forced, she cried, 'How now, _Brilliard_, are you sofaint-hearted a soldier, you cannot see a lady die without beingterrified?' 'Rather, madam, ' (replied he blushing anew) 'sosoft-hearted, I cannot see the loveliest person in the world faintingin my arms, without being disordered with grief and fear, beyond thepower of many days to resettle again. ' At which she approached him, who stood near the door, and shutting it, she took him by the hand, and smiling, cried, 'And had you no other business for your heart butgrief and fear, when a fair lady throws herself into your arms? Itought to have had some kinder effect on a person of _Brilliard_'syouth and complexion. ' And while she spoke this she held him by thewrist, and found on the sudden his pulse to beat more high, and hisheart to heave his bosom with sighs, which now he no longer took careto hide, but with a transported joy, he cried, 'Oh madam, do not urgeme to a confession that must undo me, without making it criminal by mydiscovery of it; you know I am your slave----' when she with a prettywondering smile, cried--'What, a lover too, and yet so dull!' 'Ohcharming _Sylvia_, ' (says he, and falling on his knees) 'give myprofound respect a kinder name:' to which she answered, --'You thatknow your sentiments may best instruct me by what name to call them, and you _Brilliard_ may do it without fear----You saw I did notstruggle in your arms, nor strove I to defend the kisses which yougave----' 'Oh heavens, ' cried he, transported with what she said, 'isit possible that you could know of my presumption, and favour it too?I will no longer then curse those unlucky stars that sent _Octavio_just in the blessed minute to snatch me from my heaven, the lovelyvictim lay ready for the sacrifice, all prepared to offer; my hands, my eyes, my lips were tired with pleasure, but yet they were notsatisfied; oh there was joy beyond those ravishments, of which onekind minute more had made me absolute lord:' 'Yes, and the next, ' saidshe, 'had sent this to your heart'----snatching a penknife that lay onher toilet, where she had been writing, which she offered so near tohis bosom, that he believed himself already pierced, so sensiblykilling her words, her motion, and her look; he started from her, andshe threw away the knife, and walked a turn or two about the chamber, while he stood immovable, with his eyes fixed on the earth, and histhoughts on nothing but a wild confusion, which he vowed afterwards hecould give no account of. But as she turned she beheld him with somecompassion, and remembering how he had it in his power to expose herin a strange country, and own her for a wife, she believed itnecessary to hide her resentments; and cried, '_Brilliard_, for thefriendship your lord has for you I forgive you; but have a care younever raise your thoughts to a presumption of that nature more: do nothope I will ever fall below _Philander_'s love; go and repent yourcrime----and expect all things else from my favour----' At this heleft her with a bow that had some malice in it, and she returned intoher dressing-room. --After dinner _Octavio_ writes her this letter, which his page brought. 

OCTAVIO _to_ SYLVIA. 

_Madam_, 'Tis true, that in obedience to your commands, I begged your pardonfor the confession I made you of my passion: but since you could notbut see the contradiction of my tongue in my eyes, and hear it but toowell confirmed by my sighs, why will you confine me to the formalitiesof a silent languishment, unless to increase my flame with my pain?

You conjure me to see you often, and at the same time forbid mespeaking my passion, and this bold intruder comes to tell you now, itis impossible to obey the first, without disobliging the last; andsince the crime of adoring you exceeds my disobedience in not waitingon you, be pleased at least to pardon that fault, which my profoundrespect to the lovely _Sylvia_ makes me commit; for it is impossibleto see you, and not give you an occasion of reproaching me: if I couldmake a truce with my eyes, and, like a mortified capuchin, look alwaysdownwards, not daring to behold the glorious temptations of yourbeauty, yet you wound a thousand ways besides; your touches inflameme, and your voice has music in it, that strikes upon my soul withravishing tenderness; your wit is unresistible and piercing; your verysorrows and complaints have charms that make me soft without the aidof love: but pity joined with passion raises a flame too mighty for myconduct! And I in transports every way confess it: yes, yes, upbraidme, call me traitor and ungrateful, tell me my friendship is false;but, _Sylvia_, yet be just, and say my love was true, say only he hadseen the charming _Sylvia_; and who is he that after that would notexcuse the rest in one so absolutely born to be undone by love, as isher destined slave, OCTAVIO. 

POSTSCRIPT. 

_Madam, among some rarities I this morning saw, I found these trifles_Florio _brings you, which because uncommon I presume to send you. _

_Sylvia_, notwithstanding the seeming severity of her commands, waswell enough pleased to be disobeyed; and women never pardon any faultmore willingly than one of this nature, where the crime gives soinfallible a demonstration of their power and beauty; nor can any oftheir sex be angry in their hearts for being thought desirable; and itwas not with pain that she saw him obstinate in his passion, as youmay believe by her answering his letters, nor ought any lover todespair when he receives denial under his mistress's own hand, whichshe sent in this to _Octavio_. 

SYLVIA _to_ OCTAVIO. 

You but ill judge of my wit, or humour, _Octavio_, when you send mesuch a present, and such a billet, if you believe I either receive theone, or the other, as you designed: in obedience to me you will nomore tell me of your love, and yet at the same time you are breakingyour word from one end of the paper to the other. Out of respect to meyou will see me no more, and yet are bribing me with presents, believing you have found out the surest way to a woman's heart. I mustneeds confess, _Octavio_, there is great eloquence in a pair ofbracelets of five thousand crowns: it is an argument to prove yourpassion, that has more prevailing reason in it, than either _Seneca_or _Tully_ could have urged; nor can a lover write or speak in anylanguage so significant, and very well to be understood, as in thatsilent one of presenting. The malicious world has a long time agreedto reproach poor women with cruel, unkind, insensible, and dull; whenindeed it is those men that are in fault who want the right way ofaddressing, the true and secret arts of moving, that sovereign remedyagainst disdain. It is you alone, my lord, like a young _Columbus_, that have found the direct, unpractised way to that little and so muchdesired world, the favour of the fair; nor could love himself havepointed his arrows with any thing more successful for his conquest ofhearts: but mine, my lord, like _Scćva_'s shield, is already so fullof arrows, shot from _Philander_'s eyes, it has no room for any otherdarts: take back your presents then, my lord, and when you make themnext be sure you first consider the receiver: for know, _Octavio_, maids of my quality ought to find themselves secure from addresses ofthis nature, unless they first invite. You ought to have seen advancesin my freedoms, consenting in my eyes, or (that usual vanity of mysex) a thousand little trifling arts of affectation to furnish out aconquest, a forward complaisance to every gaudy coxcomb, to fill mytrain with amorous cringing captives, this might have justified yourpretensions; but on the contrary, my eyes and thoughts, which neverstrayed from the dear man I love, were always bent to earth when gazedupon by you; and when I did but fear you looked with love, Ientertained you with _Philander_'s, praise, his wondrous beauty, andhis wondrous love, and left nothing untold that might confirm you howmuch impossible it was, I ever should love again, that I might leaveyou no room for hope; and since my story has been so unfortunate toalarm the whole world with a conduct so fatal, I made no scruple oftelling you with what joy and pride I was undone; if this encourageyou, if _Octavio_ have sentiments so meanly poor of me, to think, because I yielded to _Philander_, his hopes should be advanced, Ibanish him for ever from my sight, and after that disdain the littleservice he can render the never to be altered

SYLVIA. 

This letter she sent him back by his page, but not the bracelets, which were indeed very fine, and very considerable: at the same timeshe threatened him with banishment, she so absolutely expected to bedisobeyed in all things of that kind, that she dressed herself thatday to advantage, which since her arrival she had never done in herown habits: what with her illness, and _Philander_'s absence, acareless negligence had seized her, till roused and weakened to thethoughts of beauty by _Octavio_'s love, she began to try its force, and that day dressed. While she was so employed, the page hastes withthe letter to his lord, who changed colour at the sight of it ere hereceived it; not that he hoped it brought love, it was enough shewould but answer, though she railed: 'Let her' (said he opening it)'vow she hates me: let her call me traitor, and unjust, so she takethe pains to tell it this way;' for he knew well those that argue willyield, and only she that sends him back his own letters withoutreading them can give despair. He read therefore without a sigh, norcomplained he on her rigours; and because it was too early yet to makehis visit, to shew the impatience of his love, as much as the realityand resolution of it, he bid his page wait, and sent her back thisanswer. 

OCTAVIO _to_ SYLVIA. 

Fair angry _Sylvia_, how has my love offended? Has its excess betrayedthe least part of that respect due to your birth and beauty? Though Iam young as the gay ruddy morning, and vigorous as the gilded sun atnoon, and amorous as that god, when with such haste he chased young_Daphne_ over the flowery plain, it never made me guilty of a thoughtthat _Sylvia_ might not pity and allow. Nor came that trifling presentto plead for any wish, or mend my eloquence, which you with suchdisdain upbraid me with; the bracelets came not to be raffled for yourlove, nor pimp to my desires: youth scorns those common aids; no, letdull age pursue those ways of merchandise, who only buy up hearts atthat vain price, and never make a barter, but a purchase. Youth has abetter way of trading in love's markets, and you have taught me toowell to judge of, and to value beauty, to dare to bid so cheaply forit: I found the toy was gay, the work was neat, and fancy new; andknow not any thing they would so well adorn as _Sylvia_'s lovelyhands: I say, if after this I should have been the mercenary fool tohave dunned you for return, you might have used me thus----Condemn meere you find me sin in thought! That part of it was yet so far behindit was scarce arrived in wish. You should have stayed till itapproached more near, before you damned it to eternal silence. Tolove, to sigh, to weep, to pray, and to complain; why one may beallowed it in devotion; but you, nicer than heaven itself, make that acrime, which all the powers divine have never decreed one. I will notplead, nor ask you leave to love; love is my right, my business, andmy province; the empire of the young, the vigorous, and the bold; andI will claim my share; the air, the groves, the shades are mine tosigh in, as well as your _Philander_'s; the echoes answer me aswillingly, when I complain, or name the cruel _Sylvia_; fountainsreceive my tears, and the kind spring's reflection agreeably flattersme to hope, and makes me vain enough to think it just and reasonable Ishould pursue the dictates of my soul----love on in spite ofopposition, because I will not lose my privileges; you may forbid menaming it to you, in that I can obey, because I can; but not to love!Not to adore the fair! And not to languish for you, were as impossibleas for you not to be lovely, not to be the most charming of your sex. But I am so far from a pretending fool, because you have beenpossessed, that often that thought comes cross my soul, and checks myadvancing love; and I would buy that thought off with almost all myshare of future bliss! Were I a god, the first great miracle should beto form you a maid again: for oh, whatever reasons flattering love canbring to make it look like just, the world! The world, fair _Sylvia_, still will censure, and say----you were to blame; but it was thatfault alone that made you mortal, we else should have adored you as adeity, and so have lost a generous race of young succeeding heroesthat may be born of you! Yet had _Philander_ loved but half so well asI, he would have kept your glorious fame entire; but since alone for_Sylvia_ I love _Sylvia_, let her be false to honour, false to love, wanton and proud, ill-natured, vain, fantastic, or what is worse--lether pursue her love, be constant, and still dote upon _Philander_--yetstill she will be the _Sylvia_ I adore, that _Sylvia_ born eternallyto enslave

OCTAVIO. 

This he sent by _Florio_ his page, at the same time that she expectedthe visit of his lord, and blushed with a little anger and concern atthe disappointment; however she hasted to read the letter, and waspleased with the haughty resolution he made in spite of her, to loveon as his right by birth; and she was glad to find from these positiveresolves that she might the more safely disdain, or at least assume atyranny which might render her virtue glorious, and yet at the sametime keep him her slave on all occasions when she might have need ofhis service, which, in the circumstances she was in, she did not knowof what great use it might be to her, she having no other design onhim, bating the little vanity of her sex, which is an ingredient sointermixed with the greatest virtues of women-kind, that those whoendeavour to cure them of that disease rob them of a very considerablepleasure, and in most it is incurable: give _Sylvia_ then leave toshare it with her sex, since she was so much the more excusable, byhow much a greater portion of beauty she had than any other, and hadsense enough to know it too; as indeed whatever other knowledge theywant, they have still enough to set a price on beauty, though they donot always rate it; for had _Sylvia_ done that, she had been thehappiest of her sex: but as she was she waited the coming of_Octavio_, but not so as to make her quit one sad thought for_Philanders_ love and vanity, though they both reigned in her soul;yet the first surmounted the last, and she grew to impatient ravingswhenever she cast a thought upon her fear that _Philander_ grew cold;and possibly pride and vanity had as great a share in that concern ofhers as love itself, for she would oft survey herself in her glass, and cry, 'Gods! Can this beauty be despised? This shape! This face!This youth! This air! And what's more obliging yet, a heart thatadores the fugitive, that languishes and sighs after the dear runaway. Is it possible he can find a beauty, ' added she, 'of greaterperfection----But oh, it is fancy sets the rate on beauty, and he mayas well love a third time as he has a second. For in love, those thatonce break the rules and laws of that deity, set no bounds to theirtreasons and disobedience. Yes, yes, ----' would she cry, 'He thatcould leave _Myrtilla_, the fair, the young, the noble, chaste andfond _Myrtilla_, what after that may he not do to _Sylvia_, on whom hehas less ties, less obligations? Oh wretched maid----what has thyfondness done, he is satiated now with thee, as before with_Myrtilla_, and carries all those dear, those charming joys, to somenew beauty, whom his looks have conquered, and whom his softbewitching vows will ruin. ' With that she raved and stamped, and criedaloud, 'Hell----fires----tortures----daggers----racks andpoison----come all to my relief! Revenge me on the perjured lovelydevil----But I will be brave----I will be brave and hate him----' Thisshe spoke in a tone less fierce, and with great pride, and had notpaused and walked above a hasty turn or two, but _Octavio_, asimpatient as love could make him, entered the chamber, so dressed, soset out for conquest, that I wonder at nothing more than that _Sylvia_did not find him altogether charming, and fit for her revenge, who wasformed by nature for love, and had all that could render him thedotage of women: but where a heart is prepossessed, all that isbeautiful in any other man serves but as an ill comparison to what itloves, and even _Philander_'s likeness, that was not indeed_Philander_, wanted the secret to charm. At _Octavio_'s entrance shewas so fixed on her revenge of love, that she did not see him, whopresented himself as so proper an instrument, till he first sighingspoke, 'Ah, _Sylvia_, shall I never see that beauty easy more? Shall Inever see it reconciled to content, and a soft calmness fixed uponthose eyes, which were formed for looks all tender and serene; or arethey resolved' (continued he, sighing) 'never to appear but in stormswhen I approach?' 'Yes, ' replied she, 'when there is a calm of love inyours that raises it. ' 'Will you confine my eyes, ' said he, 'that areby nature soft? May not their silent language tell you my heart's sadstory?' But she replied with a sigh, 'It is not generously done, _Octavio_, thus to pursue a poor unguarded maid, left to your care, your promises of friendship. Ah, will you use _Philander_ with suchtreachery?' 'Sylvia, ' said he, 'my flame is so just and reasonable, that I dare even to him pronounce I love you; and after that dare loveyou on----' 'And would you' (said she) 'to satisfy a little shortlived passion, forfeit those vows you have made of friendship to_Philander_? 'That heart that loves you, Sylvia, ' (he replied) 'cannotbe guilty of so base a thought; _Philander_ is my friend, and as he isso, shall know the dearest secrets of my soul. I should believe myselfindeed ungrateful' (continued he) 'wherever I loved, should I not tell_Philander_; he told me frankly all his soul, his loves, his griefs, his treasons, and escapes, and in return I will pay him back withmine. ' 'And do you imagine' (said she) 'that he would permit yourlove?' 'How should he hinder me?' (replied he. ) 'I do believe' (saidshe) 'he'd forget all his safety and his friendship, and fight you. ''Then I'd defend myself, ' (said he) 'if he were so ungrateful. ' Whilethey thus argued, _Sylvia_ had her thoughts apart, on the littlestratagems that women in love sometimes make use of; and _Octavio_ nosooner told her he would send _Philander_ word of his love, but sheimagined that such a knowledge might retrieve the heart of her lover, if indeed it were on the wing, and revive the dying embers in hissoul, as usually it does from such occasions; and on the other side, she thought that she might more allowably receive _Octavio_'saddresses, when they were with the permission of _Philander_, if hecould love so well to permit it; and if he could not, she should havethe joy to undeceive her fears of his inconstancy, though she banishedfor ever the agreeable _Octavio_; so that on _Octavio_'s fartherurging the necessity of his giving _Philander_ that sure mark of hisfriendship she permitted him to write, which he immediately did on hertable, where there stood a little silver escritoire which containedall things for this purpose. 

OCTAVIO _to_ PHILANDER. 

_My Lord_, Since I have vowed you my eternal friendship, and that I absolutelybelieve myself honoured with that of yours, I think myself obliged bythose powerful ties to let you know my heart, not only now as thatfriend from whom I ought to conceal nothing, but as a rival too, whomin honour I ought to treat as a generous one: perhaps you will be sounkind as to say I cannot be a friend and a rival at the same time, and that almighty love, that sets the world at odds, chases all thingsfrom the heart where that reigns, to establish itself the moreabsolutely there; but, my lord, I avow mine a love of that goodnature, that can endure the equal sway of friendship, where like twoperfect friends they support each other's empire there; nor can theglory of one eclipse that of the other, but both, like the notion wehave of the deity, though two distinct passions, make but one in mysoul; and though friendship first entered, 'twas in vain, I called itto my aid, at the first soft invasion of _Sylvia_'s power; and you mycharming friend, are the most oblig'd to pity me, who already know sowell the force of her beauty. I would fain have you think, I strove atfirst with all my reason against the irresistible lustre of her eyes:and at the first assaults of love, I gave him not a welcome to mybosom, but like slaves unused to fetters, I grew sullen with mychains, and wore them for your sake uneasily. I thought it base tolook upon the mistress of my friend with wishing eyes; but softer lovesoon furnished me with arguments to justify my claim, since love isnot the choice but the face of the soul, who seldom regards the objectlov'd as it is, but as it wishes to have it be, and then kind fancymakes it soon the same. Love, that almighty creator of something fromnothing, forms a wit, a hero, or a beauty, virtue, good humour, honour, any excellence, when oftentimes there is neither in theobject, but where the agreeing world has fixed all these; and since itis by all resolved, (whether they love or not) that this is she, youought no more, _Philander_, to upbraid my flame, than to wonder at it:it is enough I tell you that it is _Sylvia_ to justify my passion; noris it a crime that I confess I love, since it can never rob_Philander_ of the least part of what I have vowed him: or if his merehonour will believe me guilty of a fault, let this atone for all, thatif I wrong my friend in loving _Sylvia_, I right him in despairing;for oh, I am repulsed with all the rigour of the coy and fair, withall the little malice of the witty sex, and all the love of _Sylvia_to _Philander_----There, there is the stop to all my hopes andhappiness, and yet by heaven I love thee, oh thou favoured rival!

After this frank confession, my _Philander_, I should be glad to hearyour sentiment, since yet, in spite of love, in spite of beauty, I amresolved to die _Philander_'s constant friend, OCTAVIO. 

After he had writ this, he gave it to _Sylvia_: 'See charmingcreature' (said he in delivering it) 'if after this you either doubtmy love, or what I dare for _Sylvia_. ' 'I neither receive it' (saidshe) 'as a proof of the one or the other; but rather that you believe, by this frank confession, to render it as a piece of gallantry anddiversion to _Philander_; for no man of sense will imagine that lovetrue, or arrived to any height, that makes a public confession of itto his rival. ' 'Ah, _Sylvia_, ' answered he, 'how malicious is yourwit, and how active to turn its pointed mischief on me! Had I notwrit, you would have said I durst not; and when I make a declarationof it, you call it only a slight piece of gallantry: but, _Sylvia_, you have wit enough to try it a thousand ways, and power enough tomake me obey; use the extremity of both, so you recompense me at lastwith a confession that I was at least found worthy to be numbered inthe crowd of your adorers. ' _Sylvia_ replied, 'He were a dull loverindeed, that would need instructions from the wit of his mistress togive her proofs of his passion; whatever opinion you have of my sense, I have too good a one of _Octavio_'s to believe, that when he is alover he will want aids to make it appear; till then we will let thatargument alone, and consider his address to _Philander_. ' She thenread over the letter he had writ, which she liked very well for herpurpose; for at this time our young _Dutch hero_ was made a propertyof in order to her revenge on _Philander_: she told him, he had saidtoo much both for himself and her. He told her, he had declarednothing with his pen, that he would not make good with his sword. 'Hold, sir, ' said she, 'and do not imagine from the freedom you havetaken in owning your passion to _Philander_, that I shall allow ithere: what you declare to the world is your own crime; but when I hearit, it is no longer yours but mine; I therefore conjure you, my lord, not to charge my soul with so great a sin against _Philander_, and Iconfess to you, I shall be infinitely troubled to be obliged to banishyou my sight for ever. ' He heard her, and answered with a sigh; forshe went from him to the table, and sealed her letter, and gave it himto be enclosed to _Philander_, and left him to consider on her lastwords, which he did not lay to heart, because he fancied she spokethis as women do that will be won with industry: he, in standing up asshe went from him, saw himself in the great glass, and bid his personanswer his heart, which from every view he took was reinforced withnew hope, for he was too good a judge of beauty not to find it inevery part of his own amiable person, nor could he imagine from_Sylvia_'s eyes, which were naturally soft and languishing, (and nowthe more so from her fears and jealousies) that she meant from herheart the rigours she expressed: much he allowed for his short time ofcourtship, much to her sex's modesty, much from her quality, and verymuch from her love, and imagined it must be only time and assiduity, opportunity and obstinate passion, that were capable of reducing herto break her faith with _Philander_; he therefore endeavour'd by allthe good dressing, the advantage of lavish gaiety, to render hisperson agreeable, and by all the arts of gallantry to charm her withhis conversation, and when he could handsomely bring in love, hefailed not to touch upon it as far as it would be permitted, and everyday had the vanity to fancy he made some advances; for indeed everyday more and more she found she might have use for so considerable aperson, so that one may very well say, never any passed their timebetter than _Sylvia_ and _Octavio_, though with different ends. All hehad now to fear was from the answer _Philander_'s letter should bring, for whom he had, in spite of love, so entire a friendship, that heeven doubted whether (if _Philander_ could urge reasons potent enough)he should not choose to die and quit Sylvia, rather than be false tofriendship; one post passed, and another, and so eight successiveones, before they received one word of answer to what they sent; sothat _Sylvia_, who was the most impatient of her sex, and the most inlove, was raving and acting all the extravagance of despair, and even_Octavio_ now became less pleasing, yet he failed not to visit herevery day, to send her rich presents, and to say all that a fondlover, or a faithful friend might urge for her relief: at last_Octavio_ received this following letter. 

PHILANDER _to_ OCTAVIO. 

You have shewed, _Octavio_, a freedom so generous, and so beyond theusual measures of a rival, that it were almost injustice in me not topermit you to love on; if _Sylvia_ can be false to me, and all hervows, she is not worth preserving; if she prefer _Octavio_ to_Philander_, then he has greater merit, and deserves her best: but ifon the contrary she be just, if she be true, and constant, I cannotfear his love will injure me, so either way _Octavio_ has my leave tolove the charming _Sylvia_; alas, I know her power, and do not wonderat thy fate! For it is as natural for her to conquer, as 'tis foryouth to yield; oh, she has fascination in her eyes! A spell upon hertongue, her wit's a philtre, and her air and motion all snares forheedless hearts; her very faults have charms, her pride, herpeevishness, and her disdain, have unresisted power. Alas, you find itevery day--and every night she sweeps the tour along and shews thebeauty, she enslaves the men, and rivals all the women! How oft withpride and anger I have seen it; and was the unconsidering coxcomb thento rave and rail at her, to curse her charms, her fair inviting andperplexing charms, and bullied every gazer: by heaven I could notspare a smile, a look, and she has such a lavish freedom in herhumour, that if you chance to love as I have done--it will surely makethee mad; if she but talked aloud, or put her little affectation on, to show the force of beauty, oh God! How lost in rage! How mad withjealousy, was my fond breaking heart! My eyes grew fierce, andclamorous my tongue! And I have scarce contained myself from hurtingwhat I so much adored; but then the subtle charmer had such arts toflatter me to peace again--to clasp her lovely arms about my neck--tosigh a thousand dear confirming vows into my bosom, and kiss, andsmile, and swear--and take away my rage, --and then--oh my _Octavio_, no human fancy can present the joy of the dear reconciling moment, where little quarrels raised the rapture higher, and she was alwaysnew. These are the wondrous pains, and wondrous pleasures that love byturns inspires, till it grows wise by time and repetition, and thenthe god assumes a serious gravity, enjoyment takes off the uneasykeenness of the passion, the little jealous quarrels rise no more;quarrels, the very feathers of love's darts, that send them with moreswiftness to the heart; and when they cease, your transports lessentoo, then we grow reasonable, and consider; we love with prudencethen, as fencers fight with foils; a sullen brush perhaps sometimes orso; but nothing that can touch the heart, and when we are arrived tolove at that dull, easy rate, we never die of that disease; then wehave recourse to all the little arts, the aids of flatterers, and deardissimulation, (that help-meet to the lukewarm lover) to keep up agood character of constancy, and a right understanding. 

Thus, _Octavio_, I have ran through both the degrees of love; which Ihave taken so often, that I am grown most learned and able in the art;my easy heart is of the constitution of those, whom frequent sicknessrenders apt to take relapses from every little cause, or wind thatblows too fiercely on them; it renders itself to the first effects ofnew surprising beauty, and finds such pleasure in beginning passion, such dear delight of fancying new enjoyment, that all past loves, pastvows and obligations, have power to bind no more; no pity, no remorse, no threatening danger invades my amorous course; I scour along theflow'ry plains of love, view all the charming prospect at a distance, which represents itself all gay and glorious! And long to lay me down, to stretch and bask in those dear joys that fancy makes so ravishing:nor am I one of those dull whining slaves, whom quality or my respectcan awe into a silent cringer, and no more; no, love, youth, and oftsuccess has taught me boldness and art, desire and cunning to attack, to search the feeble side of female weakness, and there to play love'sengines; for women will be won, they will, _Octavio_, if love and witfind any opportunity. 

Perhaps, my friend, you are wondering now, what this discourse, thisodd discovery of my own inconstancy tends to? Then since I cannotbetter pay you back the secret you had told me of your love, than byanother of my own; take this confession from thy friend----Ilove!----languish! And am dying, ----for a new beauty. To you, _Octavio_, you that have lived twenty dull tedious years, and neverunderstood the mystery of love, till _Sylvia_ taught you to adore, this change may seem a wonder; you that have lazily run more than halfyour youth's gay course of life away, without the pleasure of onenobler hour of mine; who, like a miser, hoard your sacred store, orscantily have dealt it but to one, think me a lavish prodigal in love, and gravely will reproach me with inconstancy----but use me like afriend, and hear my story. 

It happened in my last day's journey on the road I overtook a man ofquality, for so his equipage confessed; we joined and fell intodiscourse of many things indifferent, till, from a chain of one thingto another, we chanced to talk of _France_, and of the factions there, and I soon found him a _Cesarian_; for he grew hot with his concernfor that prince, and fiercely owned his interest: this pleased me, andI grew familiar with him; and I pleased him so well in my devotion for_Cesario_, that being arrived at _Cologne_ he invites me home to hispalace, which he begged I would make use of as my own during my stayat _Cologne_. Glad of the opportunity I obeyed, and soon informedmyself by a _Spanish_ page (that waited on him) to whom I was obliged;he told me it was the Count of _Clarinau_, a _Spaniard_ born, and ofquality, who for some disgust at Court retired hither; that he was aperson of much gravity, a great politician, and very rich; and thoughwell in years was lately married to a very beautiful young lady, andthat very much against her consent; a lady whom he had taken out of amonastery, where she had been pensioned from a child, and of whom hewas so fond and jealous, he never would permit her to see or be seenby any man: and if she took the air in her coach, or went to church, he obliged her to wear a veil. Having learned thus much of the boy, Idismissed him with a present; for he had already inspired me withcuriosity, that prologue to love, and I knew not of what use he mightbe hereafter; a curiosity that I was resolved to satisfy, though Ibroke all the laws of hospitality, and even that first night I felt animpatience that gave me some wonder. In fine, three days I languishedout in a disorder that was very nearly allied to that of love. I foundmyself magnificently lodged; attended with a formal ceremony; andindeed all things were as well as I could imagine, bating a kindopportunity to get a sight of this young beauty: now half a lovergrown, I sighed and grew oppressed with thought, and had recourse togroves, to shady walks and fountains, of which the delicate gardensafforded variety, the most resembling nature that ever art produced, and of the most melancholy recesses, fancying there, in some luckyhour, I might encounter what I already so much adored in _Idea_, whichstill I formed just as my fancy wished; there, for the first two daysI walked and sighed, and told my new-born passion to every gentle windthat played among the boughs; for yet no lady bright appeared beneaththem, no visionary nymph the groves afforded; but on the third day, all full of love and stratagem, in the cool of the evening, I passedinto a thicket near a little rivulet, that purled and murmured throughthe glade, and passed into the meads; this pleased and fed my presentamorous humour, and down I laid myself on the shady brink, andlistened to its melancholy glidings, when from behind me I heard asound more ravishing, a voice that sung these words:

 Alas, in vain, you pow'rs above, You gave me youth, you gave me charms, And ev'ry tender sense of love; To destine me to old _Phileno_'s arms. Ah how can youth's gay spring allow The chilling kisses of the winter's snow!

 All night I languish by his side, And fancy joys I never taste; As men in dreams a feast provide, And waking find, with grief they fast. Either, ye gods, my youthful fires allay, Or make the old _Phileno_ young and gay. 

 Like a fair flower in shades obscurity, Though every sweet adorns my head, Ungather'd, unadmired I lie, And wither on my silent gloomy bed, While no kind aids to my relief appear, And no kind bosom makes me triumph there. 

By this you may easily guess, as I soon did, that the song was sung byMadam the Countess of _Clarinau_, as indeed it was; at the verybeginning of her song my joyful soul divined it so! I rose, andadvanced by such slow degrees, as neither alarmed the fair singer, norhindered me the pleasure of hearing any part of the song, till Iapproached so near as (behind the shelter of some jessamine thatdivided us) I, unseen, completed those wounds at my eyes, which I hadreceived before at my ears. Yes, _Ociavio_, I saw the lovely_Clarinau_ leaning on a pillow made of some of those jessamines whichfavoured me, and served her for a canopy. But, oh my friend! How shallI present her to thee in that angel form she then appeared to me? Allyoung! All ravishing as new-born light to lost benighted travellers;her face, the fairest in the world, was adorned with curls of shiningjet, tied up--I know not how, all carelessly with scarlet ribbon mixedwith pearls; her robe was gay and rich, such as young royal brides puton when they undress for joys; her eyes were black, the softest heavenever made; her mouth was sweet, and formed for all delight; so red herlips, so round, so graced with dimples, that without one other charm, that was enough to kindle warm desires about a frozen heart; asprightly air of wit completed all, increased my flame, and made memad with love: endless it were to tell thee all her beauties: natureall over was lavish and profuse, let it suffice, her face, her shape, her mien, had more of angel in them than humanity! I saw her thus allcharming! Thus she lay! A smiling melancholy dressed her eyes, whichshe had fixed upon the rivulet, near which I found her lying; justsuch I fancied famed _Lucretia_ was, when _Tarquin_ first beheld her;nor was that royal ravisher more inflamed than I, or readier for theencounter. Alone she was, which heightened my desires; oh gods! Alonelay the young lovely charmer, with wishing eyes, and all prepared forlove! The shade was gloomy, and the tell-tale leaves combined soclose, they must have given us warning if any had approached fromeither side! All favoured my design, and I advanced; but with suchcaution as not to inspire her with a fear, instead of that of love! Aslow, uneasy pace, with folded arms, love in my eyes, and burning inmy heart----at my approach she scarce contained her cries, and rosesurprised and blushing, discovering to me such a proportionedheight--so lovely and majestic--that I stood gazing on her, all lostin wonder, and gave her time to dart her eyes at me, and every lookpierced deeper to my soul, and I had no sense but love, silentadmiring love! Immovable I stood, and had no other motion but that ofa heart all panting, which lent a feeble trembling to my tongue, andeven when I would have spoke to her, it sent a sigh up to prevent myboldness; and oh, _Octavio_, though I have been bred in all the saucydaring of a forward lover, yet now I wanted a convenient impudence;awed with a haughty sweetness in her look, like a Fauxbrave after avigorous onset, finding the danger fly so thick around him, sheersoff, and dares not face the pressing foe, struck with too fierce alightning from her eyes, whence the gods sent a thousand winged darts, I veiled my own, and durst not play with fire: while thus she hotlydid pursue her conquest, and I stood fixed on the defensive part, Iheard a rustling among the thick-grown leaves, and through theirmystic windings soon perceived the good old Count of _Clarinau_approaching, muttering and mumbling to old _Dormina_, the dragonappointed to guard this lovely treasure, and which she having leftalone in the thicket, and had retired but at an awful distance, hadmost extremely disobliged her lord. I only had time enough in thislittle moment to look with eyes that asked a thousand pities, and toldher in their silent language how loath they were to leave the charmingobject, and with a sigh----I vanished from the wondering fair one, nimble as lightning, silent as a shade, to my first post behind thejessamines; that was the utmost that I could persuade my heart to do. You may believe, my dear _Octavio_, I did not bless the minute thatbrought old _Clarinau_ to that dear recess, nor him, nor my own fate;and to complete my torment, I saw him (after having gravely reproachedher for being alone without her woman) yes, I saw him fall on herneck, her lovely snowy neck, and loll and kiss, and hang his tawnywithered arms on her fair shoulders, and press his nauseous load upon_Calista_'s body, (for so I heard him name her) while she was gazingstill upon the empty place, whence she had seen me vanish; which heperceiving, cried--'My little fool, what is it thou gazest on, turn tothy known old man, and buss him soundly----' When putting him by witha disdain, that half made amends for the injury he had done me bycoming, 'Ah, my lord, ' cried she, 'even now, just there I saw a lovelyvision, I never beheld so excellent a thing:' 'How, ' cried he, 'avision, a thing, --What vision? What thing? Where? How? And when----''Why there, ' said she, 'with my eyes, and just now is vanished behindyon jessamines. ' With that I drew my sword--for I despaired to get offunknown; and being well enough acquainted with the jealous nature ofthe Spaniards, which is no more than see and stab, I prepared to standon my defence till I could reconcile him, if possible, to reason; yeteven in that moment I was more afraid of the injury he might do theinnocent fair one, than of what he could do to me: but he not so muchas dreaming she meant a man by her lovely vision, fell a kissing heranew, and beckoning _Dormina_ off to pimp at distance, told her, 'Thegrove was so sweet, the river's murmurs so delicate, and she was socuriously dressed, that all together had inspired him with alove-fit;' and then assaulting her anew with a sneer, which you haveseen a satyr make in pictures, he fell to act the little tricks ofyouth, that looked so goatish in him--instead of kindling it wouldhave damped a flame; which she resisted with a scorn so charming gaveme new hope and fire, when to oblige me more, with pride, disdain, andloathing in her eyes, she fled like _Daphne_ from the ravisher; hebeing bent on love pursued her with a feeble pace, like an oldwood-god chasing some coy nymph, who winged with fear out-strips theflying wind, and though a god he cannot overtake her; and left mefainting with new love, new hope, new jealousy, impatience, sighs andwishes, in the abandoned grove. Nor could I go without another view ofthat dear place in which I saw her lie. I went--and laid me down juston the print which her fair body made, and pressed, and kissed it overa thousand times with eager transports, and even fancied fair_Calista_ there; there 'twas I found the paper with the song which Ihave sent you; there I ran over a thousand stratagems to gain anotherview; no little statesman had more plots and arts than I to gain thisobject I adored, the soft idea of my burning heart, now raging wild, abandoned all to love and loose desire; but hitherto my industry isvain; each day I haunt the thickest groves and springs, the flowerywalks, close arbours; all the day my busy eyes and heart are searchingher, but no intelligence they bring me in: in fine, _Octavio_, allthat I can since learn is, that the bright _Calista_ had seen a visionin the garden, and ever since was so possessed with melancholy, thatshe had not since quitted her chamber; she is daily pressing the Countto permit her to go into the garden, to see if she can again encounterthe lovely _phantom_, but whether, from any description she hath madeof it, (or from any other cause) he imagines how it was, I know not;but he endeavours all he can to hinder her, and tells her it is notlawful to tempt heaven by invoking an apparition; so that till asecond view eases the torments of my mind, there is nothing in natureto be conceived so raving mad as I; as if my despair of finding heragain increased my impatient flame, instead of lessening it. 

After this declaration, judge, _Octavio_, who has given the greatestproofs of his friendship, you or I; you being my rival, trust me withthe secret of loving my mistress, which can no way redound to yourdisadvantage; but I, by telling you the secrets of my soul, put itinto your power to ruin me with _Sylvia_, and to establish yourself inher heart; a thought I yet am not willing to bear, for I have anambition in my love, that would not, while I am toiling for empirehere, lose my dominion in another place: but since I can no more rulea woman's heart, than a lover's fate, both you and _Sylvia_ maydeceive my opinion in that, but shall never have power to make mebelieve you less my friend, than I am your

PHILANDER. 

POSTSCRIPT. 

_The enclosed I need not oblige you to deliver; you see I give youopportunity. _

_Octavio_ no sooner arrived to that part of the letter which named theCount of _Clarinau_, but he stopped, and was scarce able to proceed, for the charming _Calista_ was his sister, the only one he had, whohaving been bred in a nunnery, was taken then to be married to thisold rich count, who had a great fortune: before he proceeded, his souldivined this was the new amour that had engaged the heart of hisfriend; he was afraid to be farther convinced, and yet a curiosity toknow how far he had proceeded, made him read it out with all thedisorder of a man jealous of his honour, and nicely careful of hisfame; he considered her young, about eighteen, married to an old, ill-favoured, jealous husband, no parents but himself to right herwrongs, or revenge her levity; he knew, though she wanted no wit, shedid art, for being bred without the conversation of men, she had notlearnt the little cunnings of her sex; he guessed by his own soul thathers was soft and apt for impression; he judged from her confession toher husband of the vision, that she had a simple innocence, that mightbetray a young beauty under such circumstances; to all this heconsidered the charms of _Philander_ unresistible, his unweariedindustry in love, and concludes his sister lost. At first he upbraids_Philander_, and calls him ungrateful, but soon thought itunreasonable to accuse himself of an injustice, and excused thefrailty of _Philander_, since he knew not that she whom he adored wassister to his friend; however, it failed not to possess him withinquietude that exercised all his wit, to consider how he mightprevent an irreparable injury to his honour, and an intrigue thatpossibly might cost his sister her life, as well as fame. In the midstof all these torments he forgot not the more important business of hislove: for to a lover, who has his soul perfectly fixed on the fairobject of its adoration, whatever other thoughts fatigue and cloud hismind, that, like a soft gleam of new sprung light, darts in andspreads a glory all around, and like the god of day, cheers everydrooping vital; yet even these dearer thoughts wanted not theirtorments. At first he strove to atone for the fears of _Calista_, withthose of imagining _Philander_ false to _Sylvia_: 'Well, ' criedhe----'If thou be'st lost, _Calista_, at least thy ruin has laid afoundation for my happiness, and every triumph _Philander_ makes ofthy virtue, it the more secures my empire over _Sylvia_; and since thebrother cannot be happy, but by the sister's being undone, yield thou, O faithless fair one, yield to _Philander_, and make me blest in_Sylvia_! And thou' (continued he) 'oh perjured lover and inconstantfriend, glut thy insatiate flame----rifle _Calista_ of every virtueheaven and nature gave her, so I may but revenge it on thy _Sylvia_!'Pleased with this joyful hope he traverses his chamber; glowing andblushing with new kindling fire, his heart that was all gay, diffuseda gladness, that expressed itself in every feature of his lovely face;his eyes, that were by nature languishing, shone now with an unusualair of briskness, smiles graced his mouth, and dimples dressed hisface, insensibly his busy fingers trick and dress, and set his hair, and without designing it, his feet are bearing him to _Sylvia_, tillhe stopped short and wondered whither he was going, for yet it was nottime to make his visit--'Whither, fond heart, ' (said he) 'O whitherwouldst thou hurry this slave to thy soft fires!' And now returningback he paused and fell to thought--He remembered how impatiently_Sylvia_ waited the return of the answer he writ to him, wherein heowned his passion for that beauty. He knew she permitted him to writeit, more to raise the little brisk fires of jealousy in _Philander_, and to set an edge on his blunted love, than from any favours shedesigned _Octavio_; and that on this answer depended all herhappiness, or the confirmation of her doubts, and that she wouldmeasure _Philander_'s love by the effects she found there of it: sothat never lover had so hard a game to play, as our new one. He knewhe had it now in his power to ruin his rival, and to make almost hisown terms with his fair conqueress, but he considered the secret wasnot rendered him for so base an end, nor could his love advance itselfby ways so false, dull and criminal--Between each thought he paused, and now resolves she must know he sent an answer to his letter; forshould she know he had, and that he should refuse her the sight of it, he believed with reason she ought to banish him for ever her presence, as the most disobedient of her slaves. He walks and pauses on--but nokind thought presents itself to save him; either way he finds himselfundone, and from the most gay, and most triumphing lover on the earth, he now, with one desirous thought of right reasoning, finds he is themost miserable of all the creation! He reads the superscription ofthat _Philander_ writ to _Sylvia_, which was enclosed in his, andfinds it was directed only--'For _Sylvia_', which would plainlydemonstrate it came not so into _Holland_, but that some other coversecured it; so that never any but _Octavio_, the most nice in honour, had ever so great a contest with love and friendship: for his nobletemper was not one of those that could sacrifice his friend to hislittle lusts, or his more solid passion, but truly brave, resolves nowrather to die than to confess _Philander_'s secret; to evade which hesent her letter by his page, with one from himself, and commanded himto tell her, that he was going to receive some commands from thePrince of _Orange_, and that he would wait on her himself in theevening. The page obeys, and _Octavio_ sent him with a sigh, and eyesthat languishingly told him he did it with regret. 

The page hastening to _Sylvia_, finds her in all the disquiet of anexpecting lover; and snatching the papers from his hand, the first shesaw was that from _Philander_, at which she trembled with fear andjoy, for hope, love and despair, at once seized her, and hardly ableto make a sign with her hand, for the boy to withdraw, she sank downinto her chair, all pale, and almost fainting; but re-assuming hercourage, she opened it, and read this. 

PHILANDER _to_ SYLVIA. 

Ah, _Sylvia_! Why all these doubts and fears? why at this distance doyou accuse your lover, when he is incapable to fall before you, andundeceive your little jealousies. Oh, _Sylvia_, I fear this firstreproaching me, is rather the effects of your own guilt, than any thatlove can make you think of mine. Yes, yes, my _Sylvia_, it is thewaves that roll and glide away, and not the steady shore. 'Tis youbegin to unfasten from the vows that hold you, and float along theflattering tide of vanity. It is you, whose pride and beauty scorningto be confined, give way to the admiring crowd, that sigh for you. Yes, yes, you, like the rest of your fair glorious sex, love theadmirer though you hate the coxcomb. It is vain! it is great! Andshews your beauty's power----Is it possible, that for the safety of mylife I cannot retire, but you must think I am fled from love and_Sylvia_? Or is it possible that pitying tenderness that made meincapable of taking leave of her should be interpreted as false--andbase--and that an absence of thirty days, so forc'd, and so compelled, must render me inconstant--lost--ungrateful----as if that after_Sylvia_ heaven ever made a beauty that could charm me?

You charge my letter with a thousand faults, it is short, it is cold, and wants those usual softnesses that gave them all their welcome, andtheir graces. I fear my _Sylvia_ loves the flatterer, and not the man, the lover only, not _Philander_: and she considers him not forhimself, but the gay, glorious thing he makes of her! Ah! tooself-interested! Is that your justice? You never allow for my unhappycircumstances; you never think how care oppresses me, nor what my lovecontributes to that care. How business, danger, and a thousand ills, take up my harrassed mind: by every power! I love thee still, my_Sylvia_, but time has made us more familiar now, and we begin toleave off ceremony, and come to closer joys to join our interests now, as people fixed, resolved to live and die together; to weave ourthoughts and be united stronger. At first we shew the gayest side oflove, dress and be nice in every word and look, set out for conquestall; spread every art, use every stratagem--But when the toil is past, and the dear victory gained, we then propose a little idle rest, alittle easy slumber: we then embrace, lay by the gaudy shew, theplumes and gilded equipage of love, the trappings of the conqueror, and bring the naked lover to your arms; we shew him then uncased withall his little disadvantages; perhaps the flowing hair, (those ebonycurls you have so often combed and dressed, and kissed) are then putup, and shew a fiercer air, more like an antique _Roman_ than_Philander_: and shall I then, because I want a grace, be thought tolove you less? Because the embroidered coat, the point and garniture'slaid by, must I put off my passion with my dress? No, _Sylvia_, loveallows a thousand little freedoms, allows me to unbosom all mysecrets; tell thee my wants, my fears, complaints and dangers, andthink it great relief if thou but sigh and pity me: and oft thycharming wit has aided me, but now I find thee adding to my pain. Owhere shall I unload my weight of cares, when _Sylvia_, who was wontto sigh and weep, and suffer me to ease the heavy burden, now growsdispleased and peevish with my moans, and calls them the effects ofdying love! Instead of those dear smiles, that fond bewitchingprattle, that used to calm my roughest storm of grief, she nowreproaches me with coldness, want of concern, and lover's rhetoric:and when I seem to beg relief and shew my soul's resentment, it isthen I'm false; it is my aversion, or the effects of some new kindlingflame: is this fair dealing, _Sylvia_? Can I not spare a little sighfrom love, but you must think I rob you of your due? If I omit atender name, by which I used to call you, must I be thought to losethat passion that taught me such endearments? And must I never reflectupon the ruin both of my fame and fortune, but I must run the risk oflosing _Sylvia_ too? Oh cruelty of love! Oh too, too fond and jealousmaid, what crimes thy innocent passion can create, when it extendsbeyond the bounds of reason! Ah too, too nicely tender _Sylvia_, thatwill not give me leave to cast a thought back on my former glory; yeteven that loss I could support with tameness and content, if Ibelieved my suffering reached only to my heart; but _Sylvia_, if shelove, must feel my torments too, must share my loss, and want athousand ornaments, my sinking fortune cannot purchase her: believeme, charming creature, if I should love you less, I have a sense sojust of what you have suffered for _Philander_, I'd be content to be agalley-slave, to give thy beauty, birth and love their due; but as Iam thy faithful lover still, depend upon that fortune heaven has leftme; which if thou canst (as thou hast often sworn) then thou would'stsubmit to be cheerful still, be gay and confident, and do not judge myheart by little words; my heart--too great and fond for such poordemonstrations. 

You ask me, _Sylvia_, where I am, and what I do; and all I can say is, that at present I am safe from any fears of being delivered up to_France_, and what I do is sighing, dying, grieving; I want my_Sylvia_; but my circumstances yet have nothing to encourage thathope; when I resolve where to settle, you shall see what haste I willmake to have you brought to me: I am impatient to hear from you, andto know how that dear pledge of our soft hours advances. I mean, whatI believe I left thee possessed of, a young _Philander_: cherish it, _Sylvia_, for that is a certain obligation to keep a dying fire alive;be sure you do it no hurt by your unnecessary grief, though thereneeds no other tie but that of love to make me more entirely

_Your_ PHILANDER. 

If _Sylvia_'s fears were great before she opened the letter, what wereher pains when all those fears were confirmed from that never-failingmark of a declining love, the coldness and alteration of the style ofletters, that first symptom of a dying flame! 'O where, ' said she, 'where, oh perjured charmer, is all that ardency that used to warm thereader? Where is all that natural innocence of love that could not, even to discover and express a grace in eloquence, force one softword, or one passion? Oh, ' continued she, 'he is lost and gone from_Sylvia_ and his vows; some other has him all, clasps that dear body, hangs upon that face, gazes upon his eyes, and listens to his voice, when he is looking, sighing, swearing, dying, lying and damning ofhimself for some new beauty--He is, I will not endure it; aid me, _Antonet_! Oh, where is the perjured traitor!' _Antonet_, who waswaiting on her, seeing her rise on the sudden in so great a fury, would have stayed her hasty turns and ravings, beseeching her to tellher what was the occasion, and by a discovery to ease her heart; butshe with all the fury imaginable flung from her arms, and ran to thetable, and snatching up a penknife, had certainly sent it to herheart, had not _Antonet_ stepped to her and caught her hand, which sheresisted not, and blushing resigned, with telling her, she was ashamedof her own cowardice; 'For, ' said she, 'if it had designed to havebeen brave, I had sent you off, and by a noble resolution have freedthis slave within' (striking her breast) 'from a tyranny which itshould disdain to suffer under:' with that she raged about the chamberwith broken words and imperfect threatenings, unconsideredimprecations, and unheeded vows and oaths; at which _Antonet_redoubled her petition to know the cause; and she replied--'_Philander_!The dear, the soft, the fond and charming _Philander_ is now no morethe same. O, _Antonet_, ' said she, 'didst thou but see this lettercompared to those of heretofore, when love was gay and young, whennew desire dressed his soft eyes in tears, and taught his tongue theharmony of angels; when every tender word had more of passion, thanvolumes of this forced, this trifling business; Oh thou wouldst sayI were the wretchedest thing that ever nature made--Oh, thou wouldstcurse as I do--not the dear murderer, but thy frantic self, thy mad, deceived, believing, easy self; if thou wert so undone--' Thenwhile she wept she gave _Antonet_ liberty to speak, which was topersuade her, her fears were vain; she urged every argument of loveshe had been witness to, and could not think it possible he couldbe false. To all which the still weeping _Sylvia_ lent a willingear; for lovers are much inclined to believe every thing they wish. _Antonet_, having a little calmed her, continued telling her, thatto be better convinced of his love, or his perfidy, she ought tohave patience till _Octavio_ should come to visit her; 'For youhave forgotten, madam, ' said she, 'that the generous rival hassent him word he is your lover:' for _Antonet_ was waiting at thereading of that letter, nor was there any thing the open-hearted_Sylvia_ concealed from that servant; and women who have made a breachin their honour, are seldom so careful of their rest of fame, as thosewho have a stock entire; and _Sylvia_ believed after she had entrustedthe secret of one amour to her discretion, she might conceal none. 'See, madam, ' says _Antonet_, 'here is a letter yet unread:' _Sylvia_, who had been a great while impatient for the return of _Octavio_'sanswer from _Philander_, expecting from thence the confirmation of allher doubts, hastily snatched the letter out of _Antonet_'s hand, andread it, hoping to have found something there to have eased her soulone way or other; a soul the most raging and haughty by nature thatever possessed a body: the words were these. 

OCTAVIO _to_ SYLVIA. 

At least you will pity me, oh charming _Sylvia_, when you shall callto mind the cruel services I am obliged to render you, to be themessenger of love from him, whom beauty and that god plead so stronglyfor already in your heart. 

If, after this, you can propose a torture that yet may speak mypassion and obedience in any higher measure, command and try myfortitude; for I too well divine, O rigorous beauty, the business ofyour love-sick slave will be only to give you proofs how much he doesadore you, and never to taste a joy, even in a distant hope; likelamps in urns my lasting fire must burn, without one kind material tosupply it. Ah _Sylvia_, if ever it be thy wretched fate to see thelord of all your vows given to another's arms----when you shall see inthose soft eyes that you adore, a languishment and joy if you but nameanother beauty to him;----when you behold his blushes fade and rise atthe approaches of another mistress, ----hear broken sighs and unassuredreplies, whenever he answers some new conqueress; tremblings, andpantings seizing every part at the warm touch as of a second charmer:ah, _Sylvia_, do but do me justice then, and sighing say--I pity poor_Octavio_. 

Take here a letter from the blest _Philander_, which I had broughtmyself, but cannot bear the torment of that joy that I shall seeadvancing in your eyes when you shall read it over--no--it is too muchthat I imagine all! Yet bless that patient fondness of my passion thatmakes me still your slave, and your adorer, OCTAVIO. 

 * * * * *

At finishing this, the jealous fair one redoubled her tears with suchviolence, that it was in vain her woman strove to abate the flowingtide by all the reasonable arguments she could bring to her aid; and_Sylvia_, to increase it, read again the latter part of the ominousletter; which she wet with the tears that streamed from her brighteyes. 'Yes, yes, ' (cried she, laying the letter down) 'I know, _Octavio_, this is no prophecy of yours, but a known truth: alas, youknow too well the fatal time is already come, when I shall find thesechanges in _Philander_!' 'Ah madam, ' replied _Antonet_, 'how curiousare you to search out torment for your own heart, and as much a loveras you are, how little do you understand the arts and politics oflove! Alas, madam, ' continued she, 'you yourself have armed my Lord_Octavio_ with these weapons that wound you: the last time he writ tomy lord _Philander_, he found you possessed with a thousand fears andjealousies; of these he took advantage to attack his rival: for whatman is there so dull, that would not assault his enemy in that partwhere the most considerable mischief may be done him? It is now_Octavio_'s interest, and his business, to render _Philander_ false, to give you all the umbrage that is possible of so powerful a rival, and to say any thing that may render him hateful to you, or at leastto make him love you less. ' 'Away, ' (replied _Sylvia_ with an uneasysmile) 'how foolish are thy reasonings; for were it possible I couldlove _Philander_ less, is it to be imagined that should make way for_Octavio_ in my heart, or any after that dear deceiver?' 'No doubt ofit, ' replied _Antonet_, 'but that very effect it would have on yourheart; for love in the soul of a witty person is like a skein of silk;to unwind it from the bottom, you must wind it on another, or it runsinto confusion, and becomes of no use, and then of course, as onelessens the other increases, and what _Philander_ loses in love, _Octavio_, or some one industrious lover, will most certainly gain. ''Oh, ' replied _Sylvia_, 'you are a great philosopher in love. ' 'Ishould, madam, ' cried _Antonet_, 'had I but had a good memory, for Ihad a young churchman once in love with me, who has read many aphilosophical lecture to me upon love; among the rest, he used to saythe soul was all composed of love. I used to ask him then, if it wereformed of so soft materials, how it came to pass that we were nooftener in love, or why so many were so long before they loved, andothers who never loved at all?' 'No question but he answered youwisely, ' said _Sylvia_ carelessly, and sighing, with her thoughts buthalf attentive. 'Marry, and so he did, ' cried _Antonet_, 'at least Ithought so then, because I loved a little. He said, love of itself wasinactive, but it was informed by object; and then too that object mustdepend on fancy; (for souls, though all love, are not to love all. )Now fancy, he said, was sometimes nice, humorous, and fantastic, whichis the reason we so often love those of no merit, and despise thosethat are most excellent; and sometimes fancy guides us to likeneither; he used to say, women were like misers, though they hadalways love in store, they seldom cared to part with it, but on verygood interest and security, _cent per cent_ most commonly, heart forheart at least; and for security, he said, we were most times toounconscionable, we asked vows at least, at worst matrimony--' Halfangry, _Sylvia_ cried--'And what is all this to my loving again?' 'Ohmadam, ' replied _Antonet_, 'he said a woman was like a gamester, if onthe winning hand, hope, interest, and vanity made him play on, besidesthe pleasure of the play itself; if on the losing, then he continuedthrowing at all to save a stake at last, if not to recover all; soeither way they find occasion to continue the game. ' 'But oh, ' said_Sylvia_ sighing, 'what shall that gamester set, who has alreadyplayed for all he had, and lost it at a cast?' 'O, madam, ' replied_Antonet_, 'the young and fair find credit every where, there is stilla prospect of a return, and that gamester that plays thus upon thetick is sure to lose but little; and if they win it is all cleargains. ' 'I find, ' said _Sylvia_, 'you are a good manager in love; youare for the frugal part of it. ' 'Faith, madam, ' said _Antonet_, 'I amindeed of that opinion, that love and interest always do besttogether, as two most excellent ingredients in that rare art ofpreserving of beauty. Love makes us put on all our charms, andinterest gives us all the advantage of dress, without which beauty islost, and of little use. Love would have us appear always new, alwaysgay, and magnificent, and money alone can render us so; and we find nowomen want lovers so much as those who want petticoats, jewels, andall the necessary trifles of gallantry. Of this last opinion I findyou yourself to be; for even when _Octavio_ comes, on whose heart youhave no design, I see you dress to the best advantage, and put onmany, to like one: why is this, but that even unknown to yourself, youhave a secret joy and pleasure in gaining conquests, and of beingadored, and thought the most charming of your sex?' 'That is not fromthe inconstancy of my heart, ' cried _Sylvia_, 'but from the littlevanity of our natures. ' 'Oh, madam, ' replied _Antonet_, 'there is nofriend to love like vanity; it is the falsest betrayer of a woman'sheart of any passion, not love itself betrays her sooner to love thanvanity or pride; and madam, I would I might have the pleasure of mynext wish, when I find you not only listening to the love of_Octavio_, but even approving it too. ' 'Away, ' replied _Sylvia_, infrowning, 'your mirth grows rude and troublesome--Go bid the page waitwhile I return an answer to what his lord has sent me. ' So sitting atthe table she dismissed _Antonet_, and writ this following letter. 

SYLVIA _to_ OCTAVIO. 

I find, _Octavio_, this little gallantry of yours, of shewing me thelover, stands you in very great stead, and serves you upon alloccasions for abundance of uses; amongst the rest, it is no smallobligation you have to it, for furnishing you with handsome pretencesto keep from those who importune you, and from giving them thatsatisfaction by your counsel and conversation, which possibly theunfortunate may have need of sometimes; and when you are pressed andobliged to render me the friendship of your visits, this necessaryready love of yours is the only evasion you have for the answering athousand little questions I ask you of _Philander_; whose heart I amafraid you know much better than _Sylvia_ does. I could almost wish, _Octavio_, that all you tell me of your passion were true, that mycommands might be of force sufficient to compel you to resolve myheart in some doubts that oppress it. And indeed if you would have mebelieve the one, you must obey me in the other; to which end I conjureyou to hasten to me, for something of an unusual coldness in_Philander_'s letter, and some ominous divinations in yours, have putme on a rack of thought; from which nothing but confirmation canrelieve me; this you dare not deny, if you value the repose of SYLVIA. 

She read it over; and was often about to tear it, fancying it was tookind: but when she considered it was from no other inclination of herheart than that of getting the secrets out of his, she pardonedherself the little levity she found it guilty of; all which, considering as the effects of the violent passion she had for_Philander_, she found it easy to do; and sealing it she gave it to_Antonet_ to deliver to the page, and set herself down to ease hersoul of its heavy weight of grief by her complaints to the dear authorof her pain; for when a lover is insupportably afflicted, there is noease like that of writing to the person loved; and that, all thatcomes uppermost in the soul: for true love is all unthinking artlessspeaking, incorrect disorder, and without method, as 'tis withoutbounds or rules; such were _Sylvia_'s unstudied thoughts, and such herfollowing letter. 

SYLVIA _to_ PHILANDER. 

Oh my _Philander_, how hard it is to bring my soul to doubt, when Iconsider all thy past tender vows, when I reflect how thou hast lovedand sworn. Methinks I hear the music of thy voice still whispering inmy bosom; methinks the charming softness of thy words remains likelessening echoes of my soul, whose distant voices by degrees decay, till they be heard no more! Alas, I've read thy letter over and over, and turned the sense a thousand several ways, and all to make it speakand look like love--Oh I have flattered it with all my heart. Sometimes I fancied my ill reading spoiled it, and then I tuned myvoice to softer notes, and read it over again; but still the wordsappeared too rough and harsh for any moving air; I which way soever Ichanged, which way soever I questioned it of love, it answered in suchlanguage--as others would perhaps interpret love, or something likeit; but I, who've heard the very god himself speak from thy wondrouslips, and known him guide thy pen, when all the eloquence of movingangels flowed from thy charming tongue! When I have seen thee faintingat my feet, (whilst all heaven opened in thy glorious face) and nowand then sigh out a trembling word, in which there was contained morelove, more soul, than all the arts of speaking ever found; what sense?Oh what reflections must I make on this decay, this strange--thissudden alteration in thee? But that the cause is fled, and the effectis ceased, the god retired, and all the oracles silenced! Confess--ohthou eternal conqueror of my soul, whom every hour, and every tenderjoy, renders more dear and lovely--tell me why (if thou still lovestme, and lovest as well) does love not dictate to thee as before? Dostthou want words? Oh then begin again, I repeat the old ones over tenthousand times; such repetitions are love's rhetoric! How often have Iasked thee in an hour, when my fond soul was doting on thy eyes, whenwith my arms clasping thy yielding neck, my lips imprinting kisses onthy cheeks, and taking in the breath that sighed from thine? How oftenhave I asked this little but important question of thee? 'Does my_Philander_ love me?' Then kiss thee for thy 'Yes' and sighs, and askagain; and still my soul was ravished with new joy, when thou wouldstanswer, 'Yes, I love thee dearly!' And if I thought you spoke it witha tone that seemed less soft and fervent than I wished, I asked sooften, till I made thee answer in such a voice as I would wish to hearit; all this had been impertinent and foolish in any thing but love, to any but a lover: but oh--give me the impertinence of love! Talklittle nonsense to me all the day, and be as wanton as a playing_Cupid_, and that will please and charm my love-sick heart better thanall fine sense and reasoning. 

Tell me, _Philander_, what new accident, what powerful misfortune hasbefallen thee, greater than what we have experienced yet, to drive thelittle god out of thy heart, and make thee so unlike my soft_Philander_? What place contains thee, or what pleasures ease thee, that thou art now contented to live a tedious day without thy_Sylvia_? How then the long long age of forty more, and yet thoulivest, art patient, tame and well; thou talkest not now of ravings, or of dying, but look'st about thee like a well pleased conquerorafter the toils of battle--oh, I have known a time--but let me neverthink upon it more! It cannot be remembered without madness! What, think thee fallen from love! To think, that I must never hear theemore pouring thy soul out in soft sighs of love? A thousand dearexpressions by which I knew the story of thy heart, and while you tellit, bid me feel it panting--never to see thy eyes fixed on myface--till the soft showers of joy would gently fall and hang theirshining dew upon thy looks, then in a transport snatch me to thybosom, and sigh a thousand times ere thou couldst utter--'Ah _Sylvia_, how I love thee'--oh the dear eloquence those few short words contain, when they are sent with lovers' accents to a soul all languishing! Butnow--alas, thy love is more familiar grown--oh take the other part ofthe proverb too, and say it has bred contempt, for nothing less thanthat your letter shews, but more it does, and that is indifference, less to be borne than hate, or any thing--

At least be just, and let me know my doom: do not deceive the heartthat trusted all thy vows, if thou be'st generous--if thou lettest meknow--thy date of love--is out (for love perhaps as life has dates)and equally uncertain, and thou no more canst stay the one than theother; yet if thou art so kind for all my honour lost, my youthundone, my beauty tarnished, and my lasting vows, to let me fairlyknow thou art departing, my worthless life will be the only loss: butif thou still continuest to impose upon my easy faith, and I shouldany other way learn my approaching fate--look to it _Philander_, --shethat had the courage to abandon all for love and faithless thee, can, when she finds herself betrayed and lost, nobly revenge the ruin ofher fame, and send thee to the other world with SYLVIA. 

She having writ this, read it over, and fancied she had not spoke halfthe sense of her soul--fancied if she were again to begin, she couldexpress herself much more to the purpose she designed, than she haddone. She began again, and writ two or three new ones, but they wereeither too kind or too rough; the first she feared would shew aweakness of spirit, since he had given her occasion of jealousy; thelast she feared would disoblige if all those jealousies were false;she therefore tore those last she had writ, and before she sealed upthe first she read _Philander_'s, letter again, but still ended itwith fears that did not lessen those she had first conceived; stillshe thought she had more to say, as lovers do, who are never weary ofspeaking or writing to the dear object of their vows; and havingalready forgotten what she had just said before--and her heart beingby this time as full as ere she began, she took up her complainingpen, and made it say this in the covert of the letter. 

Oh _Philander_! Oh thou eternal charmer of my soul, how fain I wouldrepent me of the cruel thoughts I have of thee! When I had finishedthis enclosed I read again thy chilling letter, and strove with allthe force of love and soft imagination, to find a dear occasion ofasking pardon for those fears which press my breaking heart: but oh, the more I read, the more they strike upon my tenderestpart, --something so very cold, so careless and indifferent you endyour letter with--I will not think of it--by heaven it makes merave--and hate my little power, that could no longer keep thee softand kind. Oh if those killing fears (bred by excess of love) arevainly taken up, in pity, my adorable--in pity to my tortured soulconvince them, redress the torment of my jealous doubts, and eitherway confirm me; be kind to her that dies and languishes for thee, return me all the softness that first charmed me, or frankly tell memy approaching fate. Be generous or be kind to the unfortunate andundone

SYLVIA. 

She thought she had ended here, but here again she read _Philander_'sletter, as if on purpose to find new torments out for a heart too muchpressed already; a sour that is always mixed with the sweets of love, a pain that ever accompanies the pleasure. Love else were not to benumbered among the passions of men, and was at first ordained inheaven for some divine motion of the soul, till _Adam_, with his lossof _Paradise_, debauched it with jealousies, fears and curiosities, and mixed it with all that was afflicting; but you'll say he hadreason to be jealous, whose woman, for want of other seducers, listened to the serpent, and for the love of change, would give wayeven to a devil; this little love of novelty and knowledge has beenentailed upon her daughters ever since, and I have known more womenrendered unhappy and miserable from this torment of curiosity, whichthey bring upon themselves, than have ever been undone by lessvillainous men. One of this humour was our haughty and charming_Sylvia_, whose pride and beauty possessing her with a belief that allmen were born to die her slaves, made her uneasy at every action ofthe lover (whether beloved or not) that did but seem to slight herempire: but where indeed she loved and doted, as now in _Philander_, this humour put her on the rack at every thought or fancy that hemight break his chains, and having laid the last obligation upon him, she expected him to be her slave for ever, and treated him with allthe haughty tyranny of her sex, in all those moments when softness wasnot predominant in her soul. She was chagrin at every thing, if butdispleased with one thing; and while she gave torments to others, shefailed not to feel them the most sensibly herself; so that stillsearching for new occasion of quarrel with _Philander_, she drew onherself most intolerable pains, such as doubting lovers feel afterlong hopes and confirmed joy; she reads and weeps, and when she cameto that part of it that inquired of the health and being of the pledgeof love--she grew so tender that she was almost fainting in her chair, but recovering from the soft reflection, and finding she had saidnothing of it already, she took her pen again and writ. 

You ask me, oh charming _Philander_, how the pledge of our soft hoursthrives: alas, as if it meant to brave the worst of fate! It doesadvance my sorrows, and all your cruelties have not destroyed that:but I still bear about me the destiny of many a sighing maid, thatthis (who will, I am sure, be like _Philander_) will ruin with hislooks. 

Thou sacred treasure of my soul, forgive me, if I have wronged thylove, _adieu_. 

She made an end of writing this, just when _Antonet_ arrived, and toldher _Octavio_ was alighted at the gate, and coming to visit her, whichgave her occasion to say this of him to _Philander_. 

I think I had not ended here, but that _Octavio_, the bravest and thebest of friends, is come to visit me. The only satisfaction I have tosupport my life in _Philander_'s absence. Pay him those thanks thatare due to him from me; pay him for all the generous cares he hastaken of me; beyond a friend! Almost _Philander_ in his bloomingpassion, when it was all new and young, and full of duty, could nothave rendered me his service with a more awful industry: sure he wasmade for love and glorious friendship. Cherish him then, preserve himnext your soul, for he is a jewel fit for such a cabinet: his form, his parts, and every noble action, shews us the royal race from whencehe sprung, and the victorious _Orange_ confesses him his own in everyvirtue, and in every grace; nor can the illegitimacy eclipse him: surehe was got in the first heat of love, which formed him so a_hero_--but no more. _Philander_ is as kind a judge as

SYLVIA. 

She had no sooner finished this and sealed it, but _Octavio_ came intothe chamber, and with such an air, with such a grace and mien heapproached her--with all the languishment of soft trembling love inhis face, which with the addition of the dress he was that day in, (which was extremely rich and advantageous, and altogether such aspleases the vanity of women, ) I have since heard the charming _Sylvia_say, in spite of her tenderness for _Philander_, she found a softemotion in her soul, a kind of pleasure at his approach, which madeher blush with some kind of anger at her own easiness. Nor could shehave blushed in a more happy season; for _Octavio_ saw it, and itserved at once to add a lustre to her paler beauty, and to betray somelittle kind sentiment, which possessed him with a joy that had thesame effects on him: _Sylvia_ saw it; and the care she took to hideher own, served but to increase her blushes, which put her into aconfusion she had much ado to reclaim: she cast her eyes to earth, andleaning her cheek on her hand, she continued on her seat withoutpaying him that usual ceremony she was wont to do; while he stoodspeechless for a moment, gazing on her with infinite satisfaction:when she, to assume a formality as well as she could, rose up andcried, (fearing he had seen too much) '_Octavio_, I have beenconsidering after what manner I ought to receive you? And while I wasso, I left those civilities unpaid, which your quality and my goodmanners ought to have rendered you. ' 'Ah, madam, ' replied he sighing, 'if you would receive me as I merited, and you ought, at least youwould receive me as the most passionate lover that ever adored you. ''I was rather believing, ' said _Sylvia_, 'that I ought to havereceived you as my foe; since you conceal from me so long what youcannot but believe I am extremely impatient of hearing, and what sonearly concerns my repose. ' At this, he only answering with a sigh, she pursued, 'Sure, _Octavio_, you understand me: _Philander_'s answerto the letter of your confessing passion, has not so long been thesubject of our discourse and expectation, but you guess at what Imean?' _Octavio_, who on all occasions wanted not wit, or reply, washere at a loss what to answer; notwithstanding he had consideredbefore what he would say: but let those in love fancy, and make whatfine speeches they please, and believe themselves furnished withabundance of eloquent harangues, at the sight of the dear object theylose them all, and love teaches them a dialect much more prevailing, without the expense of duller thought: and they leave unsaid all theyhad so floridly formed before, a sigh a thousand things with moresuccess: love, like poetry, cannot be taught, but uninstructed flowswithout painful study, if it be true; it is born in the soul, a nobleinspiration, not a science! Such was _Octavio_'s, he thought itdishonourable to be guilty of the meanness of a lie; and say he had noanswer: he thought it rude to say he had one and would not shew it_Sylvia_; and he believed it the height of ungenerous baseness to shewit. While he remained this moment silent, _Sylvia_, whose love, jealousy, and impatience endured no delay, with a malicious halfsmile, and a tone all angry, scorn in her eyes, and passion on hertongue, she cried--'It is well, _Octavio_, that you so early let meknow, you can be false, unjust, and faithless; you knew your power, and in pity to that youth and easiness you found in me, have given acivil warning to my heart. In this I must confess, ' continued she, 'you have given a much greater testimony of your friendship for_Philander_, than your passion for _Sylvia_, and I suppose you camenot here to resolve yourself which you should prefer; that was decidedere you arrived, and this visit I imagine was only to put me out ofdoubt: a piece of charity you might have spared. ' She ended this witha scorn, that had a thousand charms, because it gave him a littlehope; and he answered with a sigh, 'Ah, madam, how very easy you findit to entertain thoughts disadvantageous of me: and how small a faultyour wit and cruelty can improve to a crime! You are not offended atmy friendship for _Philander_. I know you do not value my life, and myrepose so much, as to be concerned who, or what shares this heart thatadores you! No, it has not merited that glory; nor dare I presume tohope, you should so much as wish my passion for _Sylvia_, shouldsurmount my friendship to _Philander_. ' 'If I did, ' replied she with ascorn, 'I perceive I might wish in vain. ' 'Madam, ' answered he, 'Ihave too divine an opinion of the justice of the charming _Sylvia_ tobelieve I ought, or could make my approaches to her heart, by ways sobase and ungenerous, the result of even tolerated treason is to hatethe traitor. ' 'Oh, you are very nice, _Octavio_, ' replied _Sylvia_, 'in your punctilio to _Philander_; but I perceive you are not sotender in those you ought to have for _Sylvia_: I find honour in youmen, is only what you please to make it; for at the same time youthink it ungenerous to betray _Philander_, you believe it no breach ofhonour to betray the eternal repose of _Sylvia_. You have promised_Philander_ your friendship; you have avowed yourself my lover, myslave, my friend, my every thing; and yet not one of these has any tieto oblige you to my interest: pray tell me, ' continued she, 'when youlast writ to him; was it not in order to receive an answer from him?And was not I to see that answer? And here you think it no dishonourto break your word or promise; by which I find your false notions ofvirtue and honour, with which you serve yourselves, when interest, design, or self-love makes you think it necessary. ' 'Madam, ' replied_Octavio_, 'you are pleased to pursue your anger, as if indeed I haddisobeyed your command, or refused to shew you what you imagine I havefrom _Philander_:' 'Yes, I do, ' replied she hastily; 'and wonder whyyou should have a greater friendship for _Philander_, than for_Sylvia_; especially if it be true that you say, you have joined loveto friendship: or are you of the opinion of those that cry, theycannot be a lover and a friend of the same object. ' 'Ah, madam, ' criedour perplexed lover, 'I beg you to believe, I think it so much more myduty and inclination to serve and obey _Sylvia_, than I do_Philander_, that I swear to you, oh charming conqueress of my soul, if _Philander_ have betrayed _Sylvia_, he has at the same timebetrayed _Octavio_, and that I would revenge it with the loss of mylife: in injuring the adorable _Sylvia_, believe me, lovely maid, heinjures so much more than a friend, as honour is above theinclinations; if he wrong you, by heaven he cancels all! He wrongs mysoul, my honour, mistress, and my sister:' fearing he had said toomuch, he stopped and sighed at the word sister, and casting down hiseyes, blushing with shame and anger, he continued. 'Oh give me leaveto say a sister, madam, lest mistress had been too daring andpresumptuous, and a title that would not justify my quarrel half sowell, since it would take the honour from my just resentment, andblast it with the scandal of self-interest or jealous revenge. ' 'Whatyou say, ' replied she, 'deserves abundance of acknowledgement; but ifyou would have me believe you, you ought to hide nothing from me; andhe, methinks, that was so daring to confess his passion to_Philander_, may after that, venture on any discovery: in short, _Octavio_, I demand to see the return you have from _Philander_, forpossibly--' said she, sweetening her charming face into a smiledesigned, 'I should not be displeased to find I might with morefreedom receive your addresses, and on the coldness of _Philander_'sreasoning may depend a great part of your fate, or fortune: come, come, produce your credentials, they may recommend your heart moreeffectually than all the fine things you can say; you know how theleast appearance of a slight from a lover may advance the pride of amistress; and pride in this affair will be your best advocate. ' Thusshe insinuated with all her female arts, and put on all her charms oflooks and smiles, sweetened her mouth, softened her voice and eyes, assuming all the tenderness and little affectations her subtle sex wascapable of, while he lay all ravished and almost expiring at her feet;sometimes transported with imagined joys in the possession of the dearflattering charmer, he was ready to unravel all the secrets of_Philander_'s letter; but honour yet was even above his passion, andmade him blush at his first hasty thought; and now he strove to puther off with all the art he could, who had so very little in hisnature, and whose real love and perfect honour had set him above thelittle evasions of truth, who scorned in all other cases the basenessand cowardice of a lie; and so unsuccessful now was the little honestcheat, which he knew not how to manage well, that it was soondiscovered to the witty, jealous, and angry _Sylvia_: so that afterall the rage a passionate woman could express, who believed herselfinjured by the only two persons in the world from whom she expectedmost adoration; she had recourse to that natural and softening aid ofher sex, her tears; and having already reproached _Octavio_ with allthe malice of a defeated woman, she now continued it in so moving amanner, that our _hero_ could no longer remain unconquered by thatpowerful way of charming, but unfixed to all he had resolved, gave up, at least, a part of the secret, and owned he had a letter from_Philander_; and after this confession knowing very well he could notkeep her from the sight of it; no, though an empire were rendered herto buy it off; his wit was next employed how he should defend thesense of it, that she might not think _Philander_ false. In order tothis, he, forcing a smile, told her, that _Philander_ was the mostmalicious of his sex, and had contrived the best stratagem in theworld to find whether _Sylvia_ still loved, or _Octavio_ retained hisfriendship for him: 'And but that, ' continued he, 'I know the natureof your curious sex to be such, that if I should persuade you not tosee it, it would but the more inflame your desire of seeing it; Iwould ask no more of the charming _Sylvia_, than that she would notoblige me to shew what would turn so greatly to my own advantage: if Iwere not too sensible, it is but to entrap me, that _Philander_ hastaken this method in his answer. Believe me, adorable _Sylvia_, Iplead against my own life, while I beg you not to put my honour to thetest, by commanding me to shew this letter, and that I join againstthe interest of my own eternal repose while I plead thus. ' She hearshim with a hundred changes of countenance. Love, rage, and jealousyswell in her fierce eyes, her breath beats short, and she was ready toburst into speaking before he had finished what he had to say; shecalled up all the little discretion and reason love had left her tomanage herself as she ought in this great occasion; she bit her lips, and swallowed her rising sighs; but he soon saw the storm he hadraised, and knew not how to stand the shock of its fury; he sighs, hepleads in vain, and the more he endeavours to excuse the levity of_Philander_, the more he rends her heart, and sets her on the rack;and concluding him false, she could no longer contain her rage, butbroke out into all the fury that madness can inspire, and from onedegree to another wrought her passion to the height of lunacy: shetore her hair, and bit his hands that endeavoured to restrain hersfrom violence; she rent the ornaments from her fair body, anddiscovered a thousand charms and beauties; and finding now that bothhis strength and reason were too weak to prevent the mischiefs hefound he had brought on her, he calls for help: when _Brilliard_ wasbut too ready at hand, with _Antonet_, and some others who came to hisassistance. _Brilliard_, who knew nothing of the occasion of all this, believed it the second part of his own late adventure, and fanciedthat _Octavio_ had used some violence to her; upon this he assumes theauthority of his lord, and secretly that of a husband or lover, andupbraiding the innocent _Octavio_ with his brutality, they fell tosuch words as ended in a challenge the next morning, for _Brilliard_appeared a gentleman, companion to his lord; and one whom _Octavio_could not well refuse: this was not carried so silently but _Antonet_, busy as she was about her raving lady, heard the appointment, and_Octavio_ quitted the chamber almost as much disturbed as _Sylvia_, whom, with much ado they persuaded him to leave; but before he did so, he on his knees offered her the letter, and implored her to receiveit; so absolutely his love had vanquished his nobler part, that ofhonour. But she attending no motions but those of her own rage, had noregard either to _Octavio_'s proffer, or his arguments of excuse; sothat he went away with the letter in all the extremity of disorder. This last part of his submission was not seen by _Brilliard_; whoimmediately left the chamber, upon receiving _Octavio_'s answer to hischallenge; so that _Sylvia_ was now left with her woman only; who bydegrees brought her to more calmness; and _Brilliard_, impatient tohear the reproaches he hoped she would give _Octavio_ when she wasreturned to reason, being curious of any thing that might redound tohis disadvantage, whom he took to be a powerful rival, returned againinto her chamber: but in lieu of hearing what he wished, _Sylvia_being recovered from her passion of madness, and her soul in a stateof thinking a little with reason, she misses _Octavio_ in the crowd, and with a voice her rage had enfeebled to a languishment, shecried--surveying carefully those about her, 'Oh where is _Octavio_?Where is that angel man: he who of all his kind can give me comfort?''Madam, ' replied _Antonet_, 'he is gone; while he was here, he kneeledand prayed in vain, but for a word, or look; his tears are yetremaining wet upon your feet, and all for one sensible reply, but ragehad deafened you; what has he done to merit this?' 'Oh _Antonet_, 'cried _Sylvia_----'It was what he would not do, that makes me rave;run, haste and fetch him back----but let him leave his honour allbehind: tell him he has too much consideration for _Philander_, andnone for my repose. Oh, _Brilliard_, ----Have I no friend in view darescarry a message from me to _Octavio_? Bid him return, oh instantlyreturn----I die, I languish for a sight of him----descending angelswould not be so welcome----Why stand ye still----have I no power withyou----Will none obey----' Then running hastily to the chamber door, she called her page to whom she cried----'Haste, haste, dear youth, and find _Octavio_ out, and bring him to me instantly: tell him I dieto see him. ' The boy, glad of so kind a message to so liberal a lover, runs on his errand, while she returns to her chamber, and endeavoursto recollect her senses against _Octavio_'s coming as much as possiblyshe could: she dismisses her attendant with different apprehensions;sometimes _Brilliard_ believed this was the second part of her firstraving, and having never seen her thus, but for _Philander_, concludesit the height of tenderness and passion for _Octavio_; but because shemade so public a declaration of it, he believed he had given her aphiltre, which had raised her flame so much above the bounds ofmodesty and discretion; concluding it so, he knew the usual effects ofthings of that nature, and that nothing could allay the heat of such alove but possession; and easily deluded with every fancy thatflattered his love, mad, stark-mad, by any way to obtain the lastblessing with _Sylvia_, he consults with _Antonet_ how to get one of_Octavio_'s letters out of her lady's cabinet, and feigning manyfrivolous reasons, which deluded the amorous maid, he persuaded her toget him one, which she did in half an hour after; for by this time_Sylvia_ being in as much tranquillity as it was possible a lovercould be in, who had the hopes of knowing all the secrets of the falsebetrayer, she had called _Antonet_ to dress her; which she resolvedshould be in all the careless magnificence that art or nature couldput on; to charm _Octavio_ wholly to obedience, whom she had sent for, and whom she expected! But she was no sooner set to her toilet, but_Octavio_'s page arrived with a letter from his master, which shegreedily snatched, and read this:

OCTAVIO _to_ SYLVIA. 

By this time, oh charming _Sylvia_, give me leave to hope your rage isabated, and your reason returned, and that you will hear a little fromthe most unfortunate of men, whom you have reduced to this miserableextremity of losing either the adorable object of his soul, or hishonour: if you can prefer a little curiosity that will serve but toafflict you, before either that or my repose, what esteem ought I tobelieve you have for the unfortunate _Octavio_: and if you hate me, asit is evident, if you compel me to the extremity of losing my reposeor honour, what reason or argument have I to prefer so careless a fairone above the last? It is certain you neither do nor can love me now;and how much below that hope shall the exposed and abandoned _Octavio_be, when he shall pretend to that glory without his honour? Believeme, charming maid, I would sacrifice my life, and my entire fortune atyour least command to serve you; but to render you a devoir that mustpoint me out the basest of my sex, is what my temper must resist inspite of all the violence of my love; and I thank my happier stars, that they have given me resolution enough, rather to fall a sacrificeto the last, than be guilty of the breach of the first: this is thelast and present thought and pleasure of my soul; and lest it should, by the force of those divine ideas which eternally surround it, besoothed and flattered from its noble principles, I will to-morrow putmyself out of the hazard of temptation, and divert if possible, byabsence, to the campaign, those soft importunate betrayers of myliberty, that perpetually solicit in favour of you: I dare not so muchas bid you adieu, one sight of that bright angel's face would undo me, unfix my nobler resolution, and leave me a despicable slave, sighingmy unrewarded treason at your insensible feet: my fortune I leave tobe disposed by you; but the more useless necessary I will for evertake from those lovely eyes, you can look on nothing with joy, but thehappy _Philander_: if I have denied you one satisfaction, at least Ihave given you this other, of securing you eternally from the troubleand importunity of, madam, your faithful

OCTAVIO. 

This letter to any other less secure of her power than was our fairsubject, would have made them impatient and angry; but she found thatthere was something yet in her power, the dispensation of which couldsoon recall him from any resolution he was able to make of absentinghimself. Her glass stood before her, and every glance that way was anassurance and security to her heart; she could not see that beauty, and doubt its power of persuasion. She therefore took her pen, andwrit him this answer, being in a moment furnished with all the art andsubtlety that was necessary on this occasion. 

SYLVIA _to_ Octavio. 

_My Lord_, Though I have not beauty enough to command your heart; at least allowme sense enough to oblige your belief, that I fancy and resent allthat the letter contains which you have denied me, and that I am notof that sort of women, whose want of youth or beauty renders soconstant to pursue the ghost of a departed love: it is enough tojustify my honour, that I was not the first aggressor. I find myselfpursued by too many charms of wit, youth, and gallantry, to burymyself beneath the willows, or to whine away my youth by murmuringrivers, or betake me to the last refuge of a declining beauty, amonastery: no, my lord, when I have revenged and recompensed myselffor the injuries of one inconstant, with the joys a thousand imploringlovers offer, it will be time to be weary of a world, which yet everyday presents me new joys; and I swear to you, _Octavio_, that it wasmore to recompense what I owed your passion, that I desired aconvincing proof of _Philander_'s falsehood, than for any otherreason, and you have too much wit not to know it; for what other usecould I make of the secret? If he be false he is gone, unworthy of me, and impossible to be retrieved; and I would as soon dye my sulliedgarments, and wear them over again, as take to my embraces a reformedlover, the native first lustre of whose passion is quite extinct, andis no more the same; no, my lord, she must be poor in beauty, that hasrecourse to shifts so mean; if I would know the secret, by all that isgood it were to hate him heartily, and to dispose of my person to thebest advantage; which in honour I cannot do, while I am unconvinced ofthe falseness of him with whom I exchanged a thousand vows offidelity; but if he unlink the chain, I am at perfect liberty; and whyby this delay you should make me lose my time, I am not able toconceive, unless you fear I should then take you at your word, andexpect the performance of all the vows of love you have made me----Ifthat be it--my pride shall be your security, or if other recompenseyou expect, set the price upon your secret, and see at what rate Ishall purchase the liberty it will procure me; possibly it may be suchas may at once enfranchise me, and revenge me on the perjured ingrate, than which nothing can be a greater satisfaction to

SYLVIA. 

She seals this letter with a wafer, and giving it to _Antonet_ to givethe page, believing she had writ what would not be in vain to thequick-sighted _Octavio_; _Antonet_ takes both that and the other which_Octavio_ had sent, and left her lady busy in dressing her head, andwent to _Brilliard_'s chamber, who thought every moment an age tillshe came, so vigorous he was on his new design. That which was sent to_Octavio_, being sealed with a wet wafer, he neatly opens, as it waseasy to do, and read, and sealed again, and _Antonet_ delivered it tothe page. After receiving what pay _Brilliard_ could force himself tobestow upon her, some flatteries of dissembled love, and some coldkisses, which even imagination could not render better, she returnedto her lady, and he to his stratagem, which was to counterfeit aletter from _Octavio_; she having in hers given him a hint, by biddinghim set a price upon the secret, which he had heard was that of aletter from _Philander_, with all the circumstances of it, from thefaithless _Antonet_, whom love had betrayed; and after blotting muchpaper to try every letter through the alphabet, and to produce themlike those of _Octavio_, which was not hard for a lover of ingenuity, he fell to the business of what he would write; and having finished itto his liking, his next trouble was how to convey it to her; for_Octavio_ always sent his by his page, whom he could trust. He now wascertain of love between them; for though he often had persuaded_Antonet_ to bring him letters, yet she could not be wrought on tillnow to betray her trust; and what he long apprehended, he found tootrue on both sides, and now he waited but for an opportunity to sendit seasonably, and in a lucky minute. In the mean time _Sylvia_ adornsherself for an absolute conquest, and disposing herself in the mostcharming, careless, and tempting manner she could devise, she layexpecting her coming lover, on a repose of rich embroidery of gold onblue satin, hung within-side with little amorous pictures of _Venus_descending in her chariot naked to _Adonis_, she embracing, while theyouth, more eager of his rural sports, turns half from her in aposture of pursuing his dogs, who are on their chase: another of_Armida_, who is dressing the sleeping warrior up in wreaths offlowers, while a hundred little Loves are playing with his gildedarmour; this puts on his helmet too big for his little head, thathides his whole face; another makes a hobby-horse of his sword andlance; another fits on his breast-piece, while three or four little_Cupids_ are seeming to heave and help him to hold it an end, and allturned the emblems of the hero into ridicule. These, and some eitherof the like nature, adorned the pavilion of the languishing fair one, who lay carelessly on her side, her arm leaning on little pillows ofpoint of _Venice_, and a book of amours in her other hand. Every noisealarmed her with trembling hope that her lover was come, and I haveheard she said, she verily believed, that acting and feigning thelover possessed her with a tenderness against her knowledge and will;and she found something more in her soul than a bare curiosity ofseeing _Octavio_ for the letter's sake: but in lieu of her lover, shefound herself once more approached with a billet from him, whichbrought this. 

OCTAVIO _to_ SYLVIA. 

Ah, _Sylvia_, he must be more than human that can withstand yourcharms; I confess my frailty, and fall before you the weakest of mysex, and own I am ready to believe all your dear letter contains, andhave vanity enough to wrest every hopeful word to my own interest, andin favour of my own heart: what will become of me, if my easy faithshould only flatter me, and I with shame should find it was not meantto me, or if it were, it was only to draw me from a virtue which hasbeen hitherto the pride and beauty of my youth, the glory of my name, and my comfort and refuge in all extremes of fortune; the eternalcompanion, guide and counsellor of all my actions: yet this good youonly have power to rob me of, and leave me exposed to the scorn of allthe laughing world; yet give me love! Give me but hope in lieu of it, and I am content to divest myself of all besides. 

Perhaps you will say I ask too mighty a rate for so poor a secret. Buteven in that there lies one of my own, that will more expose thefeebleness of my blood and name, than the discovery will me inparticular, so that I know not what I do, when I give you up theknowledge you desire. Still you will say all this is to enhance itsvalue, and raise the price: and oh, I fear you have taught my soulevery quality it fears and dreads in yours, and learnt it to chafferfor every thought, if I could fix upon the rate to sell it at: and Iwith shame confess I would be mercenary, could we but agree upon theprice; but my respect forbids me all things but silent hope, and that, in spite of me and all my reason, will predominate; for the rest Iwill wholly resign myself, and all the faculties of my soul, to thecharming arbitrator of my peace, the powerful judge of love, theadorable _Sylvia_; and at her feet render all she demands; yes, sheshall find me there to justify all the weakness this proclaims; for Iconfess, oh too too powerful maid, that you have absolutely subdued

_Your_ OCTAVIO. 

She had no sooner read this letter, but _Antonet_, instead of layingit by, carried it to _Brilliard_, and departed the chamber to make wayfor _Octavio_, who she imagined was coming to make his visit, and left_Sylvia_ considering how she should manage him to the best advantage, and with most honour acquit herself of what she had made him hope; butinstead of his coming to wait on her, an unexpected accident arrivedto prevent him; for a messenger from the Prince came with commandsthat he should forthwith come to His Highness, the messenger havingcommand to bring him along with him: so that not able to disobey, heonly begged time to write a note of business, which was a billet to_Sylvia_ to excuse himself till the next day; for it being fiveleagues to the village where the Prince waited his coming, he couldnot return that night; which was the business of the note, with whichhis page hasted to _Sylvia_. _Brilliard_, who was now a vigilantlover, and waiting for every opportunity that might favour his design, saw the page arrive with the note; and, as it was usual, he took it tocarry to his conqueress; but meeting _Antonet_ on the stairs, he gaveher what he had before counterfeited with such art, after he hadopened what _Octavio_ had sent, and found fortune was wholly on hisside, he having learned from the page besides, that his lord had takencoach with Monsieur----to go to His Highness, and would not returnthat night: _Antonet_, not knowing the deceit, carried her lady theforged letter, who opened it with eager haste, and read this. 

_To the Charming_ SYLVIA. 

_Madam_, Since I have a secret, which none but I can unfold, and that you haveoffered at any rate to buy it of me, give me leave to say, that you, fair creature, have another secret, a joy to dispense, which none butyou can give the languishing _Octavio_: if you dare purchase this ofmine, with that infinitely more valuable one of yours, I will be assecret as death, and think myself happier than a fancied god! Takewhat methods you please for the payment, and what time, order me, command me, conjure me, I will wait, watch, and pay my duty at allhours, to snatch the most convenient one to reap so ravishing ablessing. I know you will accuse me with all the confidence andrudeness in the world: but oh! consider, lovely _Sylvia_, that thatpassion which could change my soul from all the course of honour, haspower to make me forget that nice respect your beauty awes me with, and my passion is now arrived at such a height, it obeys no laws butits own; and I am obstinately bent on the pursuit of that vastpleasure I fancy to find in the dear, the ravishing arms of theadorable _Sylvia_: impatient of your answer, I am, as love compels me, madam, your slave, OCTAVIO. 

The page, who waited no answer, was departed: but _Sylvia_, whobelieved he attended, was in a thousand minds what to say or do: sheblushed, as she read, and then looked pale with anger and disdain, and, but that she had already given her honour up, it would have beensomething more surprising: but she was used to questions of thatnature, and therefore received this with so much the less concern;nevertheless, it was sufficient to fill her soul with a thousandagitations; but when she would be angry, the consideration of what shehad writ to him, to encourage him to this boldness, stopped her rage:when she would take it ill, she considered his knowledge of her lostfame, and that took off a great part of her resentment on that side;and in midst of all she was raving for the knowledge of _Philander_'ssecret. She rose from the bed, and walked about the room in muchdisorder, full of thought and no conclusion; she is ashamed to consultof this affair with _Antonet_, and knows not what to fix on: the onlything she was certain of, and which was fully and undisputablyresolved in her soul, was never to consent to so false an action, never to buy the secret at so dear a rate; she abhors _Octavio_, whomshe regards no more as that fine thing which before she thought him;and a thousand times she was about to write her despite and contempt, but still the dear secret stayed her hand, and she was fond of thetorment: at last _Antonet_, who was afflicted to know the cause ofthis disorder, asked her lady if _Octavio_ would not come; 'No, 'replied _Sylvia_, blushing at the name, 'nor never shall theungrateful man dare to behold my face any more. ' 'Jesu, ' replied_Antonet_, 'what has he done, madam, to deserve this severity?' For hewas a great benefactor to _Antonet_, and had already by his gifts andpresents made her a fortune for a burgomaster. 'He has, ' said_Sylvia_, 'committed such an impudence as deserves death from myhand:' this she spoke in rage, and walked away cross the chamber. 'Why, madam, ' cried _Antonet_, 'does he deny to give you the letter?''No, ' replied _Sylvia_, 'but asks me such a price for it, as makes mehate myself, that am reduced by my ill conduct to addresses of thatnature:' 'Heavens, madam, what can he ask you to afflict you so!' 'Thepresumptuous man, ' said she, (in rage) 'has the impudence to ask whatnever man, but _Philander_, was ever possessed of----' At this, _Antonet_ laughed--'Good lord, madam, ' said she, 'and are you angry atsuch desires in men towards you? I believe you are the first lady inthe world that was ever offended for being desirable: can any thingproclaim your beauty more, or your youth, or wit? Marry, madam, I wishI were worthy to be asked the question by all the fine dancing, dressing, song-making fops in town. ' 'And you would yield, ' replied_Sylvia_. 'Not so neither, ' replied _Antonet_, 'but I would sparkmyself, and value myself the more upon it. ' 'Oh, ' said _Sylvia_, 'shethat is so fond of hearing of love, no doubt but will find some one topractise it with. ' 'That is as I should find myself inclined, ' replied_Antonet_. _Sylvia_ was not so intent on _Antonet_'s raillery, but sheemployed all her thought the while on what she had to do: and thoselast words of _Antonet_'s jogged a thought that ran on to one veryadvantageous, at least her present and first apprehension of it wassuch: and she turned to _Antonet_, with a face more gay than it wasthe last minute, and cried, 'Prithee, good wench, tell me what sort ofman would soonest incline you to a yielding:' 'If you command me, madam, to be free with your ladyship, ' replied _Antonet_, 'I mustconfess there are two sorts of men that would most villainouslyincline me: the first is he that would make my fortune best; the next, he that would make my pleasure; the young, the handsome, or rather thewell-bred and good-humoured; but above all, the man of wit. ' 'But whatwould you say, _Antonet_, ' replied _Sylvia_, 'if all these made up inone man should make his addresses to you?' 'Why then most certainly, madam, ' replied _Antonet_, 'I should yield him my honour, after areasonable siege. ' This though the wanton young maid spoke possibly atfirst more to put her lady in good humour, than from any inclinationshe had to what she said; yet after many arguments upon that subject, _Sylvia_, cunning enough to pursue her design, brought the businessmore home, and told her in plain terms, that _Octavio_ was the man whohad been so presumptuous as to ask so great a reward as the possessionof herself for the secret she desired; and, after a thousand littlesubtleties, having made the forward girl confess with blushes she wasnot a maid, she insinuated into her an opinion, that what she had donealready (without any other motive than that of love, as she confessed, in which interest had no part) would make the trick the easier to doagain, especially if she brought to her arms a person of youth, wit, gallantry, beauty, and all the charming qualities that adorn a man, and that besides she should find it turn to good account; and for hersecrecy she might depend upon it, since the person to whose embracesshe should submit herself, should not know but that she herself wasthe woman: 'So that, ' says _Sylvia_, 'I will have all the infamy, andyou the reward every way with unblemished honour. ' While she spoke, the willing maid gave an inward pleasing attention, though at firstshe made a few faint modest scruples: nor was she less joyed to hearit should be _Octavio_, whom she knew to be rich, and very handsome;and she immediately found the humour of inconstancy seize her; and_Brilliard_ appeared a very husband lover in comparison of this newbrisker man of quality; so that after some pros and cons the wholematter was thus concluded on between these two young persons, whoneither wanted wit nor beauty; and both crowed over the littlecontrivance, as a most diverting piece of little malice, that shouldserve their present turn, and make them sport for the future. The nextthing that was considered was a letter which was to be sent in answer, and that _Sylvia_ being to write with her own hand begot a new doubt, insomuch as the whole business was at a stand: for when it came tothat point that she herself was to consent, she found the project lookwith a face so foul, that she a hundred times resolved and unresolved. But _Philander_ filled her soul, revenge was in her view, and that onethought put her on new resolves to pursue the design, let it be neverso base and dishonourable: 'Yes, ' cried she at last, 'I can commit noaction that is not more just, excusable and honourable, than thatwhich _Octavio_ has done to me, who uses me like a common mistress ofthe town, and dares ask me that which he knows he durst not do, if hehad not mean and abject thoughts of me; his baseness deserves death atmy hand, if I had courage to give it him, and the least I can do is todeceive the deceiver. Well then, give me my escritoire, ' says she; so, sitting down, she writ this, not without abundance of guilt andconfusion; for yet a certain honour, which she had by birth, checkedthe cheat of her pen. 

 * * * * *

SYLVIA _to_ OCTAVIO. 

The price, _Octavio_, which you have set upon your secret, I (moregenerous than you) will give your merit, to which alone it is due: ifI should pay so high a price for the first, you would believe I hadthe less esteem for the last, and I would not have you think me sopoor in spirit to yield on any other terms. If I valued _Philander_yet--after his confirmed inconstancy, I would have you think I scornto yield a body where I do not give a soul, and am yet to be persuadedthere are any such brutes amongst my sex; but as I never had a wishbut where I loved, so I never extended one till now to any but_Philander_; yet so much my sense of shame is above my growingtenderness, that I could wish you would be so generous to think nomore of what you seem to pursue with such earnestness and haste. Butlest I should retain any sort of former love for _Philander_, whom Iam impatient to rase wholly from my soul, I grant you all you ask, provided you will be discreet in the management: _Antonet_ thereforeshall only be trusted with the secret; the outward gate you shall findat twelve only shut to, and _Antonet_ wait you at the stairs-foot toconduct you to me; come alone. I blush and gild the paper with theirreflections, at the thought of an encounter like this, before I amhalf enough secured of your heart. And that you may be made moreabsolutely the master of mine, send me immediately _Philander_'sletter enclosed, that if any remains of chagrin possess me, they maybe totally vanquished by twelve o'clock. 

SYLVIA. 

She having, with much difficulty, writ this, read it to her trustyconfidante; for this was the only secret of her lady's she wasresolved never to discover to _Brilliard_, and to the end he mightknow nothing of it she sealed the letter with wax: but before shesealed it, she told her lady, she thought she might have sparedabundance of her blushes, and have writ a less kind letter; for a wordof invitation or consent would have served as well. To which _Sylvia_replied, her anger against him was too high not to give him all thedefeat imaginable, and the greater the love appeared, the greaterwould be the revenge when he should come to know (as in time heshould) how like a false friend she had treated him. This reason, orany at that time would have served _Antonet_, whose heart was set upona new adventure, and in such haste she was (the night coming ona-pace) to know how she should dress, and what more was to be done, that she only went out to call the page, and meeting _Brilliard_ (whowatched every body's motion) on the stair-case, he asked her what thatwas; and she said, to send by _Octavio_'s page: 'You need not look init, ' said she (when he snatched it hastily out of her hand:) 'For Ican tell you the contents, and it is sealed so, it must be known ifyou unrip it. ' 'Well, well, ' said he, 'if you tell it me, it willsatisfy my curiosity as well; therefore I'll give it the page. ' Shereturns in again to her lady, and he to his own chamber to read whatanswer the dear object of his desire had sent to his forged one: soopening it, he found it such as his soul wished, and was all joy andecstasy; he views himself a hundred times in the glass, and sethimself in order with all the opinion and pride, as if his own goodparts had gained him the blessing; he enlarged himself as he walked, and knew not what to do, so extremely was he ravished with his comingjoy; he blessed himself, his wit, his stars, his fortune; then readthe dear obliging letter, and kissed it all over, as if it had beenmeant to him; and after he had forced himself to a little more seriousconsideration, he bethought himself of what he had to do in order tothis dear appointment: he finds in her letter, that in the first placehe was to send her the letter from _Philander_: I told you before hetook _Octavio_'s letter from the page, when he understood his lord wasgoing five leagues out of town to the prince. _Octavio_ could notavoid his going, and wrote to _Sylvia_; in which he sent her theletter _Philander_ writ, wherein was the first part of the confessionof his love to Madam the Countess of _Clarinau_: generously _Octavio_sent it without terms; but _Brilliard_ slid his own forged one into_Antonet_'s hand in lieu of it, and now he read that from _Philander_, and wondered at his lord's inconstancy; yet glad of the opportunity totake _Sylvia_'s heart a little more off from him, he soon resolved sheshould have the letter, but being wholly mercenary, and fearing thateither when once she had it, it might make her go back from herpromised assignation, or at least put her out of humour, so as tospoil a great part of the entertainment he designed: he took the painsto counterfeit another billet to her, which was this. 

 * * * * *

_To_ SYLVIA. 

_Madam_, Since we have begun to chaffer, you must give me leave to make thebest of the advantage I find I have upon you; and having violated myhonour to _Philander_, allow the breach of it in some degree on otheroccasions; not but I have all the obedience and adoration for you thatever possessed the soul of a most passionate and languishing lover:but, fair _Sylvia_, I know not whether, when you have seen the secretof the false _Philander_, you may not think it less valuable than youbefore did, and so defraud me of my due. Give me leave, oh wondrouscreature! to suspect even the most perfect of your sex; and to tellyou, that I will no sooner approach your presence, but I will resignthe paper you so much wish. If you send me no answer, I will comeaccording to your directions: if you do, I must obey and wait, thoughwith that impatience that never attended a suffering lover, or anybut, divine creature, your OCTAVIO. 

This he sealed, and after a convenient distance of time carried asfrom the page to _Antonet_, who was yet contriving with her lady, towhom she gives it, who read it with abundance of impatience, beingextremely angry at the rudeness of the style, which she fancied muchaltered from what it was; and had not her rage blinded her, she mighteasily have perceived the difference too of the character, though itcame as near to the like as possible so short a practice couldproduce; she took it with the other, and tore it in pieces with rage, and swore she would be revenged; but, after calmer thoughts, she tookup the pieces to keep to upbraid him with, and fell to weeping foranger, defeat and shame; but the _April_ shower being past, shereturned to her former resentment, and had some pleasure amidst allher torment of fears, jealousies, and sense of _Octavio_'s disrespectin the thoughts of revenge; in order to which she contrives how_Antonet_ shall manage herself, and commanding her to bring out somefine point linen, she dressed up _Antonet_'s head with them, and puther on a shift, laced with the same; for though she intended no lightshould be in the chamber when _Octavio_ should enter, she knew heunderstood by his touch the difference of fine things from other. Infine, having dressed her exactly as she herself used to be when shereceived _Octavio_'s visits in bed, she embraced her, and fancied shewas much of her own shape and bigness, and that it was impossible tofind the deceit: and now she made _Antonet_ dress her up in herclothes, and mobbing her sarsenet hood about her head, she appeared solike _Antonet_ (all but the face) that it was not easy to distinguishthem: and night coming on they both long for the hour of twelve, though with different designs; and having before given notice that_Sylvia_ was gone to bed, and would receive no visit that night, theywere alone to finish all their business: this while _Brilliard_ wasnot idle, but having a fine bath made, he washed and perfumed hisbody, and after dressed himself in the finest linen perfumed that hehad, and made himself as fit as possible for his design; nor was hisshape, which was very good, or his stature, unlike to that of_Octavio_: and ready for the approach, he conveys himself out of thehouse, telling his footman he would put himself to bed after hisbathing, and, locking his chamber door, stole out; and it being dark, many a longing turn he walked, impatient till all the candles were outin every room of the house: in the mean time, he employed his thoughtson a thousand things, but all relating to _Sylvia_; sometimes thetreachery he shewed in this action to his lord, caused short-livedblushes in his face, which vanished as soon, when he considered hislord false to the most beautiful of her sex: sometimes he accused andcursed the levity of _Sylvia_ that could yield to _Octavio_, and wasas jealous as if she had indeed been to have received that charminglover; but when his thought directed him to his own happiness, hispulse beat high, his blood flushed apace in his cheeks, his eyeslanguished with love, and his body with a feverish fit! In theseextremes, by turns, he passed at least three tedious hours, with astriking watch in his hand; and when it told it was twelve, headvanced near the door, but finding it shut walked yet with greaterimpatience, every half minute going to the door; at last he found ityield to his hand that pushed it: but oh, what mortal can express hisjoy! His heart beats double, his knees tremble, and a feeblenessseizes every limb; he breathes nothing but short sighs, and is readyin the dark hall to fall on the floor, and was forced to lean on therail that begins the stairs to take a little courage: while he wasthere recruiting himself, intent on nothing but his vast joy;_Octavio_, who going to meet the Prince, being met halfway by thatyoung _hero_, was dispatched back again without advancing to the endof his five leagues, and impatient to see _Sylvia_, after_Philander_'s letter that he had sent her, or at least impatient tohear how she took it, and in what condition she was, he, as soon as healighted, went towards her house in order to have met _Antonet_, orher page, or some that could inform him of her welfare; though it wasusual for _Sylvia_ to sit up very late, and he had often made hervisits at that hour: and _Brilliard_, wholly intent on his adventure, had left the door open; so that _Octavio_ perceiving it, believed theywere all up in the back rooms where _Sylvia_'s apartment was towards agarden, for he saw no light forward. But he was no sooner entered(which he did without noise) but he heard a soft breathing, which madehim stand in the hall: and by and by he heard the soft tread of somebody descending the stairs: at this he approaches near, and the hallbeing a marble floor, his tread was not heard; when he heard one crywith a sigh--'Who is there?' And another replied, 'It is I! Who areyou?' The first replied, 'A faithful and an impatient lover. ' 'Give meyour hand then, ' replied the female voice, 'I will conduct you to yourhappiness. ' You may imagine in what surprise _Octavio_ was at sounexpected an adventure, and, like a jealous lover, did not at alldoubt but the happiness expected was _Sylvia_, and the impatient loversome one, whom he could not imagine, but raved within to know, and ina moment ran over in his thoughts all the men of quality, orcelebrated beauty, or fortune in the town, but was at as great a lossas at first thinking: 'But be thou who thou wilt, ' cried he tohimself; 'traitor as thou art, I will by thy death revenge myself onthe faithless fair one. ' And taking out his sword, he had advancedtowards the stairs-foot, when he heard them both softly ascend; butbeing a man of perfect good nature, as all the brave and witty are, hereflected on the severe usage he had from _Sylvia_, notwithstandingall his industry, his vast expense, and all the advantages of nature. This thought made him, in the midst of all his jealousy and haste, pause a little moment; and fain he would have persuaded himself, thatwhat he heard was the errors of his sense; or that he dreamed, or thatit was at least not to _Sylvia_, to whom this ascending lover wasadvancing: but to undeceive him of that favourable imagination, theywere no sooner on the top of the stairs, but he not being many stepsbehind could both hear and see, by the ill light of a greatsash-window on the stair-case, the happy lover enter the chamber-doorof _Sylvia_, which he knew too well to be mistaken, not that he couldperceive who, or what they were, but two persons not to bedistinguished. Oh what human fancy, (but that of a lover to thatdegree that was our young hero, ) can imagine the amazement and tortureof his soul, wherein a thousand other passions reigned at once, and, maugre all his courage and resolution, forced him to sink beneaththeir weight? He stood holding himself up by the rails of thestair-case, without having the power to ascend farther, or to shew anyother signs of life, but that of sighing; had he been a favouredlover, had he been a known declared lover to all the world, had he buthoped he had had so much interest with the false beauty, as but tohave been designed upon for a future love or use, he would have rushedin, and have made the guilty night a covert to a scene of blood; buteven yet he had an awe upon his soul for the perjured fair one, thoughat the same time he resolved she should be the object of his hate; forthe nature of his honest soul abhorred an action so treacherous andbase: he begins in a moment from all his good thoughts of her to thinkher the most jilting of her sex; he knew, if interest could obligeher, no man in _Holland_ had a better pretence to her than himself;who had already, without any return, even so much as hope, presentedher the value of eight or ten thousand pounds in fine plate andjewels: if it were looser desire, he fancied himself to have appearedas capable to have served her as any man; but oh! he considers thereis a fate in things, a destiny in love that elevates and advances themost mean, deformed or abject, and debases and condemns the mostworthy and magnificent: then he wonders at her excellent art ofdissembling for _Philander_; he runs in a minute over all her passionsof rage, jealousy, tears and softness; and now he hates the whole sex, and thinks them all like _Sylvia_, than whom nothing could appear moredespicable to his present thought, and with a smile, while yet hisheart was insensibly breaking, he fancies himself a very coxcomb, acully, an imposed on fool, and a conceited fop; values _Sylvia_ as acommon fair jilt, whose whole design was to deceive the world, andmake herself a fortune at the price of her honour; one that receivesall kind bidders, and that he being too lavish, and too modest, wasreserved the cully on purpose to be undone and jilted out of all hisfortune! This thought was so perfectly fixed in him, that he recoveredout of his excess of pain, and fancied himself perfectly cured of hisblind passion, resolves to leave her to her beastly entertainment, andto depart; but before he did so, _Sylvia_, (who had conducted theamorous spark to the bed, where the expecting lady lay dressed richand sweet to receive him) returned out of the chamber, and the lightbeing a little more favourable to his eyes, by his being so long inthe dark, he perceived it _Antonet_, at least such a sort of figure ashe fancied her, and to confirm him saw her go into that chamber wherehe knew she lay; he saw her perfect dress, and all confirmed him; thisbrought him back almost to his former confusion; but yet he commandshis passion, and descended the stairs, and got himself out of the hallinto the street; and _Sylvia_, remembering the street-door was open, went and shut it, and returned to _Antonet_'s chamber with the letterwhich _Brilliard_ had given to _Antonet_, as she lay in the bed, believing it _Sylvia_: for that trembling lover was no sooner enteredthe chamber, and approached the bed-side, but he kneeled before it, and offered the price of his happiness, this letter, which sheimmediately gave to _Sylvia_, unperceived, who quitted the room: andnow with all the eager haste of impatient love she strikes a light, and falls to reading the sad contents; but as she read, she many timesfainted over the paper, and as she has since said, it was a wonder sheever recovered, having no body with her. By that time she had finishedit, she was so ill she was not able to get herself into bed, but threwherself down on the place where she sat, which was the side of it, insuch agony of grief and despair, as never any soul was possessed of, but _Sylvia_'s, wholly abandoned to the violence of love and despair:it is impossible to paint a torment to express hers by; and though shehad vowed to _Antonet_ it should not at all affect her, being soprepossessed before; yet when she had the confirmation of her fears, and heard his own dear soft words addressed to another object, saw histransports, his impatience, his languishing industry and endeavour toobtain the new desire of his soul, she found her resentment aboverage, and given over to a more silent and less supportable torment, brought herself into a high fever, where she lay without so much ascalling for aid in her extremity; not that she was afraid the cheatshe had put on _Octavio_ would be discovered; for she had lost theremembrance that any such prank was played; and in this multitude ofthoughts of more concern, had forgot all the rest of that night'saction. 

_Octavio_ this while was traversing the street, wrapped in his cloak, just as if he had come from horse; for he was no sooner gone from thedoor, but his resenting passion returned, and he resolved to go upagain, and disturb the lovers, though it cost him his life and fame:but returning hastily to the door, he found it shut; at which beingenraged, he was often about to break it open, but still someunperceivable respect for _Sylvia_ prevented him; but he resolved notto stir from the door, till he saw the fortunate rogue come out, whohad given him all this torment. At first he cursed himself for beingso much concerned for _Sylvia_ or her actions to waste a minute, butflattering himself that it was not love to her, but pure curiosity toknow the man who was made the next fool to himself, though the morehappy one, he waited all night; and when he began to see the daybreak, which he thought a thousand years; his eye was never off fromthe door, and wondered at their confidence, who would let the daybreak upon them; 'but the close-drawn curtains there, ' cried he, 'favour the happy villainy. ' Still he walked on, and still he mightfor any rival that was to appear, for a most unlucky accidentprevented _Brilliard_'s coming out, as he doubly intended to do;first, for the better carrying on of his cheat of being _Octavio_; andnext that he had challenged _Octavio_ to fight; and when he knew hiserror, designed to have gone this morning, and asked him pardon, if hehad been returned; but the amorous lover over night, ordering himselffor the encounter to the best advantage, had sent a note to a doctor, for something that would encourage his spirits; the doctor came, andopening a little box, wherein was a powerful medicine, he told himthat a dose of those little flies would make him come off withwondrous honour in the battle of love; and the doctor being gone tocall for a glass of sack, the doctor having laid out of the box whathe thought requisite on a piece of paper, and leaving the box open, our spark thought if such a dose would encourage him so, a greaterwould yet make him do greater wonders; and taking twice the quantityout of the box, puts them into his pocket, and having drank the firstwith full directions, the doctor leaves him; who was no sooner gone, but he takes those out of his pocket, and in a glass of sack drinksthem down; after this he bathes and dresses, and believes himself avery _Hercules_, that could have got at least twelve sons that happynight; but he was no sooner laid in bed with the charming _Sylvia_, ashe thought, but he was taken with intolerable gripes and pains, suchas he had never felt before, insomuch that he was not able to lie inthe bed: this enrages him; he grows mad and ashamed; sometimes he hadlittle intermissions for a moment of ease, and then he would pleadsoftly by her bed-side, and ask ten thousand pardons; which beingeasily granted he would go into bed again, but then the pain wouldseize him anew, so that after two or three hours of distraction he wasforced to dress and retire: but, instead of going down he went softlyup to his own chamber, where he sat him down, and cursed the world, himself and his hard fate; and in this extremity of pain, shame andgrief, he remained till break of day: by which time _Antonet_, who wasalmost as violently afflicted, got her coats on, and went to her ownchamber, where she found her lady more dead than alive. Sheimmediately shifted her bed-linen, and made her bed, and conducted herto it, without endeavouring to divert her with the history of her ownmisfortune; and only asked her many questions concerning her beingthus ill: to which the wretched _Sylvia_ only answered with sighs; sothat _Antonet_ perceived it was the letter that had disordered her, and begged she might be permitted to see it; she gave her leave, and_Antonet_ read it; but no sooner was she come to that part of it whichnamed the Countess of _Clarinau_, but she asked her lady if sheunderstood who that person was, with great amazement: at this _Sylvia_was content to speak, pleased a little that she should have an accountof her rival. 'No, ' said she, 'dost thou know her?' 'Yes, madam, 'replied _Antonet_, 'particularly well; for I have served her eversince I was a girl of five years old, she being of the same age withme, and sent at six years old both to a monastery; for she being fondof my play her father sent me at that age with her, both to serve andto divert her with babies and baubles; there we lived seven yearstogether, when an old rich _Spaniard_, the Count of _Clarinau_, fellin love with my lady, and married her from the monastery, before shehad seen any part of the world beyond those sanctified walls. Shecried bitterly to have had me to _Cologne_ with her, but he said I wastoo young now for her service, and so sent me away back to my owntown, which is this; and here my lady was born too, and is sisterto----' Here she stopped, fearing to tell; which _Sylvia_ perceiving, with a briskness (which her indisposition one would have thought couldnot have allowed) sat up in bed, and cried, 'Ha! sister to whom? Oh, how thou wouldst please me to say to _Octavio_. ' 'Why, madam, would itplease you?' said the blushing maid. 'Because, ' said _Sylvia_, 'itwould in part revenge me on his bold addresses to me, and he wouldalso be obliged, in honour to his family, to revenge himself on_Philander_. ' 'Ah, madam, ' said she, 'as to his presumption towardsyou, fortune has sufficiently revenged it;' at this she hung down herhead, and looked very foolishly. 'How, ' said _Sylvia_, smiling andrearing herself yet more in her bed, 'is any misfortune arrived to_Octavio_? Oh, how I will triumph and upbraid the daring man!----tellme quickly what it is; for nothing would rejoice me more than to hearhe were punished a little. ' Upon this _Antonet_ told her what anunlucky night she had, how _Octavio_ was seized, and how he departed;by which _Sylvia_ believed he had made some discovery of the cheatthat was put upon him; and that he only feigned illness to get himselfloose from her embraces; and now she falls to considering how sheshall be revenged on both her lovers: and the best she can pitch uponis that of setting them both at odds, and making them fight andrevenge themselves on one another; but she, like a right woman, couldnot dissemble her resentment of jealousy, whatever art she had to doso in any other point; but mad to ease her soul that was full, and toupbraid _Philander_, she writes him a letter; but not till she hadonce more, to make her stark-mad, read his over again, which he sent_Octavio_. 

SYLVIA _to_ PHILANDER. 

Yes, perjured villain, at last all thy perfidy is arrived to myknowledge; and thou hadst better have been damned, or have fallen, like an ungrateful traitor, as thou art, under the public shame ofdying by the common executioner, than have fallen under the grasp ofmy revenge; insatiate as thy lust, false as thy treasons to thyprince, fatal as thy destiny, loud as thy infamy, and bloody as thyparty. Villain, villain, where got you the courage to use me thus, knowing my injuries and my spirit? Thou seest, base traitor, I do notfall on thee with treachery, as thou hast with thy king and mistress;to which thou hast broken thy holy vows of allegiance and eternallove! But thou that hast broken the laws of God and nature! What couldI expect, when neither religion, honour, common justice nor law couldbind thee to humanity? Thou that betrayest thy prince, abandonest thywife, renouncest thy child, killest thy mother, ravishest thy sister, and art in open rebellion against thy native country, and very kindredand brothers. Oh after this, what must the wretch expect who hasbelieved thee, and followed thy abject fortunes, the miserableout-cast slave, and contempt of the world? What could she expect butthat the villain is still potent in the unrepented, and all the loverdead and gone, the vice remains, and all the virtue vanished! Oh, whatcould I expect from such a devil, so lost in sin and wickedness, thateven those for whom he ventured all his fame, and lost his fortune, lent like a state-cully upon the public faith, on the security ofrogues, knaves and traitors; even those, I say, turned him out oftheir councils for a reprobate too lewd for the villainous society? Ohcursed that I was, by heaven and fate, to be blind and deaf to all thyinfamy, and suffer thy adorable bewitching face and tongue to charm meto madness and undoing, when that was all thou hadst left thee, thyfalse person, to cheat the silly, easy, fond, believing world into anysort of opinion of thee; for not one good principle was left, not onepoor virtue to guard thee from damnation, thou hadst but one friendleft thee, one true, on real friend, and that was wretched _Sylvia_;she, when all abandoned thee but the executioner, fled with thee, suffered with thee, starved with thee, lost her fame and honour withthee, lost her friends, her parents, and all her beauty's hopes forthee; and, in lieu of all, found only the accusation of all the good, the hate of all the virtuous, the reproaches of her kindred, the scornof all chaste maids, and curses of all honest wives; and in requitalhad only thy false vows, thy empty love, thy faithless embraces, andcold dissembling kisses. My only comfort was, (ah miserable comfort, )to fancy they were true; now that it is departed too, and I havenothing but a brave revenge left in the room of all! In which I willbe as merciless and irreligious as even thou hast been in all thyactions; and there remains about me only this sense of honour yet, that I dare tell thee of my bold design, a bravery thou hast nevershewed to me, who takest me unawares, stabb'st me without a warning ofthe blow; so would'st thou serve thy king hadst thou but power; and sothou servest thy mistress. When I look back even to thy infancy, thylife has been but one continued race of treachery, and I, (destinedthy evil genius) was born for thy tormentor; for thou hast made a veryfiend of me, and I have hell within; all rage, all torment, fire, distraction, madness; I rave, I burn, I tear myself and faint, amstill a dying, but can never fall till I have grasped thee with me:oh, I should laugh in flames to see thee howling by: I scorn thee, hate thee, loathe thee more than ever I have loved thee; and hatemyself so much for ever loving thee, (to be revenged upon the filthycriminal) I will expose myself to all the world, cheat, jilt andflatter all as thou hast done, and having not one sense or grain ofhonour left, will yield the abandoned body thou hast rifled to everyasking fop: nor is that all, for they that purchase this shall buy itat the price of being my _bravoes_. And all shall aid in my revenge onthee; all merciless and as resolved as I; as I! The injured

SYLVIA. 

Having shot this flash of the lightning of her soul, and finished herrant, she found herself much easier in the resolves on revenge she hadfixed there: she scorned by any vain endeavour to recall him from hispassion; she had wit enough to have made those eternal observations, that love once gone is never to be retrieved, and that it wasimpossible to cease loving, and then again to love the same person;one may believe for some time one's love is abated, but when it comesto a trial, it shews itself as vigorous as in its first shine, andfinds its own error; but when once one comes to love a new object, itcan never return with more than pity, compassion, or civility for thefirst: this is a most certain truth which all lovers will find, asmost wives may experience, and which our _Sylvia_ now took forgranted, and gave him over for dead to all but her revenge. Thoughfits of softness, weeping, raving, and tearing, would by turns seizethe distracted abandoned beauty, in which extremities she has recourseto scorn and pride, too feeble to aid her too often: the first thingshe resolved on, by the advice of her reasonable counsellor, was tohear love at both ears, no matter whether she regard it or not, but tohear all, as a remedy against loving one in particular; for it is mostcertain, that the use of hearing love, or of making love (though atfirst without design) either in women or men, shall at last unfix themost confirmed and constant resolution. 'And since you are assured, 'continued _Antonet_, 'that sighs nor tears bring back the wanderinglover, and that dying for him will be no revenge on him, but rather akind assurance that you will no more trouble the man who is alreadyweary of you, you ought, with all your power, industry and reason, rather to seek the preservation of that beauty, of that fine humour, to serve you on all occasions, either of revenge or love, than by afoolish and insignificant concern and sorrow reduce yourself to thecondition of being scorned by all, or at best but pitied. ' 'Howpitied!' cried the haughty _Sylvia_. 'Is there any thing soinsupportable to our sex as pity!' 'No surely, ' replied the servant, 'when 'tis accompanied by love: oh what blessed comfort 'tis to hearpeople cry--"she was once charming, once a beauty. " Is any thing moregrating, madam?' At this rate she ran on, and left nothing unsaid thatmight animate the angry _Sylvia_ to love anew, or at least to receiveand admit of love; for in that climate the air naturally breedsspirits avaricious, and much inclines them to the love of money, whichthey will gain at any price or hazard; and all this discourse to_Sylvia_, was but to incline the revengeful listening beauty to admitof the addresses of _Octavio_, because she knew he would make herfortune. Thus was the unhappy maid left by her own unfortunateconduct, encompassed in on every side with distraction; and she waspointed out by fate to be made the most wretched of all her sex; norhad she left one faithful friend to advise or stay her youth in itshasty advance to ruin; she hears the persuading eloquence of theflattering maid, and finds now nothing so prevalent on her soul asrevenge, and nothing soothes it more; and among all her lovers, orthose at least that she knew adored her, none was found so proper aninstrument as the noble _Octavio_, his youth, his wit, his gallantry, but above all his fortune pleads most powerfully with her; so that sheresolves upon the revenge, and fixes him the man; whom she now knew byso many obligations was obliged to serve her turn on _Philander_: thus_Sylvia_ found a little tranquillity, such as it was, in hope ofrevenge, while the passionate _Octavio_ was wrecked with a thousandpains and torments, such as none but jilted lovers can imagine; andhaving a thousand times resolved to hate her, and as often to love on, in spite of all----after a thousand arguments against her, and as manyin favour of her, he arrived only to this knowledge, that his love wasextreme, and that he had no power over his heart; that honour, fame, interest, and whatever else might oppose his violent flame, were alltoo weak to extinguish the least spark of it, and all the conquest hecould get of himself was, that he suffered all his torment, all thehell of raging jealousy grown to confirmation, and all the pangs ofabsence for that whole day, and had the courage to live on the rackwithout easing one moment of his agony by a letter or billet, which insuch cases discharges the burden and pressures of the love-sick heart;and _Sylvia_, who dressed, and suffered herself wholly to be carriedaway by her vengeance, expected him with as much impatience as evershe did the coming of the once adorable _Philander_, though with adifferent passion; but all the live-long day passed in expectation ofhim, and no lover appeared; no not so much as a billet, nor page ather up-rising to ask her health; so that believing he had been veryill indeed, from what _Antonet_ told her of his being so all night, and fearing now that it was no discovery of the cheat put upon him bythe exchange of the maid for the mistress, but real sickness, sheresolved to send to him, and the rather because _Antonet_ assured herhe was really sick, and in a cold damp sweat all over his face andhands which she touched, and that from his infinite concern at thedefeat, the extreme respect he shewed her in midst of all the rage athis own disappointment, and every circumstance, she knew it was nofeigned thing for any discovery he had made: on this confirmation, from a maid cunning enough to distinguish truth from flattery, shewrit _Octavio_ this letter at night. 

SYLVIA _to_ OCTAVIO. 

After such a parting from a maid so entirely kind to you, she might atleast have hoped the favour of a billet from you, to have informed herof your health; unless you think that after we have surrendered all, we are of the humour of most of your sex, who despise the obliger; butI believed you a man above the little crimes and levities of yourrace; and I am yet so hard to be drawn from that opinion, I am willingto flatter myself, that 'tis yet some other reason that has hinderedyou from visiting me since, or sending me an account of your recovery, which I am too sensible of to believe was feigned, and which indeedhas made me so tender, that I easily forgive all the disappointment Ireceived from it, and beg you will not afflict yourself at any lossyou sustained by it, since I am still so much the same I was, to be assensible as before of all the obligations I have to you; send me wordimmediately how you do, for on that depends a great part of thehappiness of

SYLVIA. 

You may easily see by this letter she was not in a humour of eitherwriting love or much flattery; for yet she knew not how she ought toresent this absence in all kinds from _Octavio_, and therefore withwhat force she could put upon a soul, too wholly taken up with thethoughts of another, more dear and more afflicting, she only writ thisto fetch one from him, that by it she might learn part of hissentiment of her last action, and sent her page with it to him; who, as was usual, was carried directly up to _Octavio_, whom he found in agallery, walking in a most dejected posture, without a band, unbraced, his arms a-cross his open breast, and his eyes bent to the floor; andnot taking any notice when the pages entered, his own was forced topull him by the sleeve before he would look up, and starting from athousand thoughts that oppressed him almost to death, he gazed wildlyabout him, and asked their business: when the page delivered him theletter, he took it, but with such confusion as he had much ado tosupport himself; but resolving not to shew his feebleness to her page, he made a shift to get a wax-light that was on the table, and read it;and was not much amazed at the contents, believing she was pursuingthe business of her sex and life, and jilting him on; (for such washis opinion of all women now); he forced a smile of scorn, though hissoul were bursting, and turning to the page gave him a liberal reward, as was his daily use when he came, and mustered up so much courage asto force himself to say--'Child, tell your lady it requires no answer;you may tell her too, that I am in perfect good health--' He wasoppressed to speak more, but sighs stopped him, and his formerresolution, wholly to abandon all correspondence with her, checked hisforward tongue, and he walked away to prevent himself from sayingmore: while the page, who wondered at this turn of love, after alittle waiting, departed; and when _Octavio_ had ended his walk, andturned, and saw him gone, his heart felt a thousand pangs not to beborne or supported; he was often ready to recall him, and was angrythe boy did not urge him for an answer. He read the letter again, andwonders at nothing now after her last night's action, though all wasriddle to him: he found it was writ to some happier man than himself, however he chanced to have it by mistake; and turning to the outside, viewed the superscription, where there happened to be none at all, for_Sylvia_ writ in haste, and when she did it, it was the least of herthoughts: and now he believed he had found out the real mystery, thatit was not meant to him; he therefore calls his page, whom he sentimmediately after that of _Sylvia_, who being yet below (for the ladswere laughing together for a moment) he brought him to his distractedlord; who nevertheless assumed a mildness to the innocent boy, andcried, 'My child, thou hast mistaken the person to whom thou shouldsthave carried the letter, and I am sorry I opened it; pray return it tothe happy man it was meant to, ' giving him the letter. 'My lord, 'replied the boy, 'I do not use to carry letters to any but yourlordship: it is the footmen's business to do that to other persons. ''It is a mistake, where ever it lies, ' cried _Octavio_, sighing, 'whether in thee, or thy lady----' So turning from the wondering boyhe left him to return with his letter to his lady, who grew mad at therelation of what she heard from the page, and notwithstanding thetorment she had upon her soul, occasioned by _Philander_, she nowfound she had more to endure, and that in spite of all her love-vowsand resentments, she had something for _Octavio_ to which she couldnot give a name; she fancies it all pride, and concern for theindignity put on her beauty: but whatever it was, this slight of hisso wholly took up her soul, that she had for some time quite forgot_Philander_, or when she did think on him it was with less resentmentthan of this affront; she considers _Philander_ with some excuse now;as having long been possessed of a happiness he might grow weary of;but a new lover, who had for six months incessantly lain at her feet, imploring, dying, vowing, weeping, sighing, giving and acting allthings the most passionate of men was capable of, or that love couldinspire, for him to be at last admitted to the possession of theravishing object of his vows and soul, to be laid in her bed, nay inher very arms (as she imagined he thought) and then, even beforegathering the roses he came to pluck, before he had begun to composeor finished his nosegay, to depart the happy paradise with a disgust, and such a disgust, as first to oblige him to dissemble sickness, andnext fall even from all his civilities, was a contempt she was notable to bear; especially from him, of whom all men living, shedesigned to make the greatest property of, as most fit for her revengeof all degrees and sorts: but when she reflected with reason, (whichshe seldom did, for either love or rage blinded that) she could notconceive it possible that _Octavio_ could be fallen so suddenly fromall his vows and professions, but on some very great provocation:sometimes she thinks he tempted her to try her virtue to _Philander_, and being a perfect honourable friend, hates her for her levity; butshe considers his presents, and his unwearied industry, and believeshe would not at that expense have bought a knowledge which couldprofit neither himself nor _Philander_; then she believes somedisgusted scent, or something about _Antonet_, might disoblige him;but having called the maid, conjuring her to tell her whether anything passed between her and _Octavio_; she again told her lady thewhole truth, in which there could be no discovery of infirmity there;she embraced her, she kissed her bosom, and found her touches soft, her breath and bosom sweet as any thing in nature could be; and nowlost almost in a confusion of thought, she could not tell what toimagine; at last she being wholly possessed that all the fault was notin _Octavio_, (for too often we believe as we hope) she concludes that_Antonet_ has told him all the cheat she put upon him: this lastthought pleased her, because it seemed the most probable, and was themost favourable to herself; and a thought that, if true, could not doher any injury with him. This set her heart a little to rights, andshe grew calm with a belief, that if so it was, as now she doubtednot, a sight of her, or a future hope from her, would calm all hisdiscontent, and beget a right understanding; she therefore resolves towrite to him, and own her little fallacy: but before she did so, _Octavio_, whose passion was violent as ever in his soul, though itwas oppressed with a thousand torments, and languished under as manyfeeble resolutions, burst at last into all its former softness, and heresolves to write to the false fair one, and upbraid her with her lastnight's infidelity; nor could he sleep till he had that way charmedhis senses, and eased his sick afflicted soul. It being now ten atnight, and he retired to his chamber, he set himself down and writthis. 

OCTAVIO _to_ SYLVIA. 

_Madam_, You have at last taught me a perfect knowledge of myself; and in oneunhappy night made me see all the follies and vanities of my soul, which self-love and fond imagination had too long rendered that wayguilty; long long! I have played the fop as others do, and shewed thegaudy monsieur, and set a value on my worthless person for being welldressed, as I believed, and furnished out for conquest, by being thegayest coxcomb in the town, where, even as I passed, perhaps, Ifancied I made advances on some wishing hearts, and vain, with butimaginary victory, I still fooled on----and was at last undone; for Isaw _Sylvia_, the charming faithless _Sylvia_, a beauty that one wouldhave thought had had the power to have cured the fond disease ofself-conceit and foppery, since love, they say, is a remedy againstthose faults of youth; but still my vanity was powerful in me, andeven this beauty too I thought it not impossible to vanquish, andstill dressed on, and took a mighty care to shew myself--a blockhead, curse upon me, while you were laughing at my industry, and turned thefancying fool to ridicule, oh, he deserved it well, most wondrouswell, for but believing any thing about him could merit but a seriousthought from _Sylvia_. _Sylvia_! whose business is to laugh at all;yet love, that is my sin and punishment, reigns still as absolutely inmy soul, as when I wished and hoped and longed for mighty blessingsyou could give; yes, I still love! Only this wretchedness is fixed toit, to see those errors which I cannot shun; my love is as high, butall my wishes gone; my passion still remains entire and raving, but nodesire; I burn, I die, but do not wish to hope; I would be alldespair, and, like a martyr, am vain and proud even in suffering. Yes, _Sylvia_--when you made me wise, you made me wretched too: before, like a false worshipper, I only saw the gay, the gilded side of thedeceiving idol; but now it is fallen----discovers all the cheat, andshews a god no more; and it is in love as in religion too, there isnothing makes their votaries truly happy but being well deceived: foreven in love itself, harmless and innocent, as it is by nature, thereneeds a little art to hide the daily discontents and torments, thatfears, distrusts and jealousies create; a little soft dissimulation isneedful; for where the lover is easy, he is most constant. But oh, when love itself is defective too, and managed by design and littleinterest, what cunning, oh what cautions ought the fair designer thento call to her defence; yet I confess your plot----still charming_Sylvia_, was subtly enough contrived, discreetly carried on----theshades of night, the happy lover's refuge, favoured you too; it wasonly fate was cruel, fate that conducted me in an unlucky hour; darkas it was, and silent too the night, I saw----Yes, faithless fair, Isaw I was betrayed; by too much faith, by too much love undone, I sawmy fatal ruin and your perfidy; and, like a tame ignoble sufferer, left you without revenge!

I must confess, oh thou deceiving fair one, I never could pretend towhat I wished, and yet methinks, because I know my heart, and theentire devotion, that is paid you, I merited at least not to have beenimposed upon; but after so dishonourable an action, as the betrayingthe secret of my friend, it was but just that I should be betrayed, and you have paid me well, deservedly well, and that shall make mesilent, and whatsoever I suffer, however I die, however I languish outmy wretched life, I'll bear my sighs where you shall never hear them, nor the reproaches my complaints express: live thou a punishment tovain, fantastic, hoping youth, live, and advance in cunning anddeceit, to make the fond believing men more wise, and teach the womennew arts of falsehood, till they deceive so long, that man may hate, and set as vast a distance between sex and sex, as I have resolved (oh_Sylvia_) thou shalt be for ever from OCTAVIO. 

This letter came just as _Sylvia_ was going to write to him, of whichshe was extremely glad; for all along there was nothing expressed thatcould make her think he meant any other than the cheat she put uponhim in _Antonet_ instead of herself: and it was some ease to her mindto be assured of the cause of his anger and absence, and to find herown thought confirmed, that he had indeed discovered the truth of thematter: she knew, since that was all, she could easily reconcile himby a plain confession, and giving him new hopes; she therefore writesthis answer to him, which she sent by his page, who waited for it. 

SYLVIA _to_ OCTAVIO. 

I own, too angry, and too nice _Octavio_, the crime you charge mewith; and did believe a person of your gallantry, wit and gaiety, would have passed over so little a fault, with only reproaching mepleasantly; I did not expect so grave a reproof, or rather so seriousan accusation. Youth has a thousand follies to answer for, and cannot_Octavio_ pardon one sally of it in _Sylvia_? I rather expected tohave seen you early here this morning, pleasantly rallying my littleperfidy, than to find you railing at a distance at it; calling it by athousand names that does not merit half this malice: and sure you donot think me so poor in good nature, but I could, some other cominghour, have made you amends for those you lost last night, possibly Icould have wished myself with you at the same time; and had I, perhaps, followed my inclination, I had made you happy as you wished;but there were powerful reasons that prevented me. I conjure you tolet me see you, where I will make a confession of my last night's sin, and give such arguments to convince you of the necessity of it, asshall absolutely reconcile you to love, hope, and SYLVIA. 

It being late, she only sent this short billet: and not hoping thatnight to see him, she went to bed, after having inquired the health of_Brilliard_, who she heard was very ill; and that young defeatedlover, finding it impossible to meet _Octavio_ as he had promised, notto fight him, but to ask his pardon for his mistake, made a shift, with much ado, to write him a note, which was this:

_My Lord_, I confess my yesterday's rudeness, and beg you will give me a pardonbefore I leave the world; for I was last night taken violently ill, and am unable to wait on your lordship, to beg what this mostearnestly does for your lordship's most devoted servant, BRILLIARD. 

This billet, though it signified nothing to _Octavio_, it served_Sylvia_ afterwards to very good use and purpose, as a little timeshall make appear. And _Octavio_ received these two notes from_Brilliard_ and _Sylvia_ at the same time; the one he flung byregardless, the other he read with inifinite pain, scorn, hate, indignation, all at once stormed in his heart, he felt every passionthere but that of love, which caused them all; if he thought her falseand ungrateful before, he now thinks her fallen to the lowest degreeof lewdness, to own her crime with such impudence; he fancies now heis cured of love, and hates her absolutely, thinks her below even hisscorn, and puts himself to bed, believing he shall sleep as well asbefore he saw the light, the foolish _Sylvia_: but oh he boasts invain, the light, the foolish _Sylvia_ was charming still; still allthe beauty appeared; even in his slumbers the angel dawned about him, and all the fiend was laid: he sees her lovely face, but the falseheart is hid; he hears her charming wit, but all the cunning ishushed: he views the motions of her delicate body, without regard tothose of her mind; he thinks of all the tender words she has givenhim, in which the jilting part is lost, and all forgotten; or, if bychance it crossed his happier thought, he rolls and tumbles in hisbed, he raves and calls upon her charming name, till he have quiteforgot it, and takes all the pains he can to deceive his own heart: ohit is a tender part, and can endure no hurt; he soothes it therefore, and at the worst resolves, since the vast blessing may be purchased, to revel in delight, and cure himself that way: these flatteringthoughts kept him all night waking, and in the morning he resolves hisvisit; but taking up her letter, which lay on the table, he read itover again, and, by degrees, wrought himself up to madness at thethought that _Sylvia_ was possessed: _Philander_ he could bear withlittle patience, but that, because before he loved or knew her, hecould allow; but this----this wrecks his very soul; and in his heightof fury, he writes this letter without consideration. 

OCTAVIO _to_ SYLVIA. 

Since you profess yourself a common mistress, and set up for theglorious trade of sin, send me your price, and I perhaps may purchasedamnation at your rate. May be you have a method in your dealing, andI have mistook you all this while, and dealt not your way; instruct myyouth, great mistress of the art, and I shall be obedient; tell mewhich way I may be happy too, and put in for an adventurer; I have astock of ready youth and money; pray, name your time and sum forhours, or nights, or months; I will be in at all, or any, as you shallfind leisure to receive the impatient _Octavio_. 

This in a mad moment he writ, and sent it ere he had consideredfarther; and _Sylvia_, who expected not so coarse and rough a return, grew as mad as he in reading it; and she had much ado to hold herhands off from beating the innocent page that brought it: to whom sheturned with fire in her eyes, flames in her cheeks, and thunder on hertongue, and cried, 'Go tell your master that he is a villain; and ifyou dare approach me any more from him, I'll have my footmen whipyou:' and with a scorn, that discovered all the indignation in theworld, she turned from him, and, tearing his note, threw it from her, and walked her way: and the page, thunder-struck, returned to hislord, who by this time was repenting he had managed his passion nobetter, and at what the boy told him was wholly convinced of hiserror; he now considered her character and quality, and accusedhimself of great indiscretion; and as he was sitting the most dejectedmelancholy man on earth, reflecting on his misfortune, the postarrived with letters from _Philander_, which he opened, and laying bythat which was enclosed for _Sylvia_, he read that from _Philander_ tohimself. 

PHILANDER _to_ OCTAVIO. 

There is no pain, my dear _Octavio_, either in love or friendship, like that of doubt; and I confess myself guilty of giving it you, in agreat measure, by my silence the last post; but having business of somuch greater concern to my heart than even writing to _Octavio_, Ifound myself unable to pursue any other; and I believe you could toowith the less impatience bear with my neglect, having affairs of thesame nature there; our circumstances and the business of our heartsthen being so resembling, methinks I have as great an impatience to berecounting to you the story of my love and fortune, as I am to receivethat of yours, and to know what advances you have made in the heart ofthe still charming _Sylvia_! Though there will be this difference inthe relations; mine, whenever I recount it, will give you a doublesatisfaction; first from the share your friendship makes you have inall the pleasures of _Philander_; and next that it excuses _Sylvia_, if she can be false to me for _Octavio_; and still advances his designon her heart: but yours, whenever I receive it, will give me athousand pains, which it is however but just I should feel, since Iwas the first breaker of the solemn league and covenant made betweenus; which yet I do, by all that is sacred, with a regret that makes mereflect with some repentance in all those moments, wherein I do notwholly give my soul up to love, and the more beautiful _Calista_; yesmore, because new. 

In my last, my dear _Octavio_, you left me pursuing, like aknight-errant, a beauty enchanted within some invisible tree, orcastle, or lake, or any thing inaccessible, or rather wandering in adream after some glorious disappearing phantom: and for some timeindeed I knew not whether I slept or waked. I saw daily the good oldCount of _Clarinau_, of whom I durst not so much as ask a civilquestion towards the satisfaction of my soul; the page was sent into_Holland_ (with some express to a brother-in-law of the Count's) ofwhom before I had the intelligence of a fair young wife to the oldlord his master; and for the rest of the servants they spoke all_Spanish_, and the devil a word we understood each other; so that itwas impossible to learn any thing farther from them; and I found I wasto owe all my good fortune to my own industry, but how to set ita-working I could not devise; at last it happened, that being walkingin the garden which had very high walls on three sides, and a finelarge apartment on the other, I concluded that it was in that part ofthe house my fair new conqueress resided, but how to be resolved Icould not tell, nor which way the windows looked that were to give thelight, towards that part of the garden there was none; at last I sawthe good old gentleman come trudging through the garden, fumbling outof his pocket a key; I stepped into an arbour to observe him, and sawhim open a little door, that led him into another garden, and lockingthe door after him vanished; and observing how that side of theapartment lay, I went into the street, and after a large compass foundthat which faced the garden, which made the fore-part of theapartment. I made a story of some occasion I had for some upper rooms, and went into many houses to find which fronted best the apartment, and still disliked something, till I met with one so directly to it, that I could, when I got a story higher, look into the very rooms, which only a delicate garden parted from this by-street; there it wasI fixed, and learned from a young _Dutch_ woman that spoke good_French_, that this was the very place I looked for: the apartment ofMadam, the Countess of _Clarinau_; she told me too, that every dayafter dinner the old gentleman came thither, and sometimes a-nights;and bewailed the young beauty, who had no better entertainment thanwhat an old withered _Spaniard_ of threescore and ten could give her. I found this young woman apt for my purpose, and having very wellpleased her with my conversation, and some little presents I made her, I left her in good humour, and resolved to serve me on any design; andreturning to my lodging, I found old _Clarinau_ returned, as brisk andgay, as if he had been caressed by so fair and young a lady; whichvery thought made me rave, and I had abundance of pain to with-hold myrage from breaking out upon him, so jealous and envious was I of whatnow I loved and desired a thousand times more than ever; since therelation my new, young, female friend had given me, who had wit andbeauty sufficient to make her judgement impartial: however, Icontained my jealousy with the hopes of a sudden revenge; for Ifancied the business half accomplished in my knowledge of herresidence. I feigned some business to the old gentleman, that wouldcall me out of town for a week to consult with some of our party; andtaking my leave of him, he offered me the compliment of money, or whatelse I should need in my affair, which at that time was not unwelcometo I me; and being well furnished for my enterprise, I took horsewithout a page or footman to attend me; because I pretended mybusiness was a secret, and taking a turn about the town in theevening, I left my horse without the gates, and went to my secret newquarters, where my young friend received me with the joy of amistress, and with whom indeed I could not forbear entertaining myselfvery well, which engaged her more to my service, with the aid of myliberality; but all this did not allay one spark of the fire kindledin my soul for the lovely _Calista_; and I was impatient for night, against which time I was preparing an engine to mount the battlement, for so it was that divided the garden from the street, rather than awall: all things fitted to my purpose, I fixed myself at the windowthat looked directly towards her sashes, and had the satisfaction tosee her leaning there, and looking on a fountain, that stood in themidst of the garden, and cast a thousand little streams into the air, that made a melancholy noise in falling into a large alabaster cisternbeneath: oh how my heart danced at the dear sight to all the tunes oflove! I had not power to stir or speak, or to remove my eyes, butlanguished on the window where I leant half dead with joy andtransport; for she appeared more charming to my view; undressed andfit for love; oh, my _Octavio_, such are the pangs which I believethou feelest at the approach of _Sylvia_, so beats thy heart, so risethy sighs and wishes, so trembling and so pale at every view, as I wasin this lucky amorous moment! And thus I fed my soul till night cameon, and left my eyes no object but my heart----a thousand dear ideas. And now I sallied out, and with good success; for with a long enginewhich reached the top of the wall, I fixed the end of my ladder there, and mounted it, and sitting on the top brought my ladder easily up tome, and turned over to the other side, and with abundance of easedescended into the garden, which was the finest I had ever seen; fornow, as good luck would have it, who was designed to favour me, themoon began to shine so bright, as even to make me distinguish thecolours of the flowers that dressed all the banks in ravishing order;but these were not the beauty I came to possess, and my new thoughtsof disposing myself, and managing my matters, now took off all thatadmiration that was justly due to so delightful a place, which art andnature had agreed to render charming to every sense; thus much Iconsidered it, that there was nothing that did not invite to love; athousand pretty recesses of arbours, grotts and little artificialgroves; fountains, environed with beds of flowers, and littlerivulets, to whose dear fragrant banks a wishing amorous god wouldmake his soft retreat. After having ranged about, rather to seek acovert on occasion, and to know the passes of the garden, which mightserve me in any extremity of surprise that might happen, I returned tothe fountain that faced _Calista_'s window, and leaning upon itsbrink, viewed the whole apartment, which appeared very magnificent:just against me I perceived a door that went into it, which while Iwas considering how to get open I heard it unlock, and skulking behindthe large basin of the fountain (yet so as to mark who came out) I sawto my unspeakable transport, the fair, the charming _Calista_ dressedjust as she was at the window, a loose gown of silver stuff lappedabout her delicate body, her head in fine night-clothes, and allcareless as my soul could wish; she came, and with her the old dragon;and I heard her say in coming out--'This is too fine a night to sleepin: prithee, _Dormina_, do not grudge me the pleasure of it, sincethere are so very few that entertain _Calista_. ' This last she spokewith a sigh, and a languishment in her voice, that shot new flames oflove into my panting heart, and trilled through all my veins, whileshe pursued her walk with the old gentlewoman; and still I kept myselfat such a distance to have them in my sight, but slid along the shadyside of the walk, where I could not be easily seen, while they keptstill on the shiny part: she led me thus through all the walks, through all the maze of love; and all the way I fed my greedy eyesupon the melancholy object of my raving desire; her shape, her gait, her motion, every step, and every movement of her hand and head, had apeculiar grace; a thousand times I was tempted to approach her, anddiscover myself, but I dreaded the fatal consequence, the old womanbeing by; nor knew I whether they did not expect the husband there; Itherefore waited with impatience when she would speak, that by that Imight make some discovery of my destiny that night; and after havingtired herself a little with walking, she sat down on a fine seat ofwhite marble, that was placed at the end of a grassy walk, and onlyshadowed with some tall trees that ranked themselves behind it, against one of which I leaned: there, for a quarter of an hour, theysat as silent as the night, where only soft-breathed winds were heardamongst the boughs, and softer sighs from fair _Calista_; at last theold thing broke silence, who was almost asleep while she spoke. 'Madam, if you are weary, let us retire to bed, and not sit gazinghere at the moon. ' 'To bed, ' replied _Calista_, 'What should I dothere?' 'Marry sleep, ' quoth the old gentlewoman; 'What should youdo?' 'Ah, _Dormina_, ' (sighed _Calista_, ) 'would age would seize metoo; for then perhaps I should find at least the pleasure of the old;be dull and lazy, love to eat and sleep, not have my slumbersdisturbed with dreams more insupportable than my waking wishes; forreason then suppresses rising thoughts, and the impossibility ofobtaining keeps the fond soul in order; but sleep----gives anunguarded loose to soft desire, it brings the lovely phantom to myview, and tempts me with a thousand charms to love; I see a face, amien, a shape, a look! Such as heaven never made, or any thing butfond imagination! Oh, it was a wondrous vision!' 'For my part, 'replied the old one, 'I am such a heathen Christian, madam, as I donot believe there are any such things as visions, or ghosts, orphantoms: but your head runs of a young man, because you are marriedto an old one; such an idea as you framed in your wishes possessedyour fancy, which was so strong (as indeed fancy will be sometimes)that it persuaded you it was a very phantom or vision. ' 'Let it befancy or vision, or whatever else you can give a name to, ' replied_Calista_, 'still it is that, that never ceased since to torture mewith a thousand pains; and prithee why, _Dormina_, is not fancy sinceas powerful in me as it was before? Fancy has not been since so kind;yet I have given it room for thought, which before I never did; I satwhole hours and days, and fixed my soul upon the lovely figure; I knowits stature to an inch, tall and divinely made; I saw his hair, long, black, and curling to his waist, all loose and flowing; I saw hiseyes, where all the _Cupids_ played, black, large, and sparkling, piercing, loving, languishing; I saw his lips sweet, dimpled, red, andsoft; a youth complete in all, like early _May_, that looks, andsmells, and cheers above the rest: in fine, I saw him such as nothingbut the nicest fancy can imagine, and nothing can describe; I saw himsuch as robs me of my rest, as gives me all the raging pains of love(love I believe it is) without the joy of any single hope. ' 'Oh, madam, ' said _Dormina_, 'that love will quickly die, which is notnursed with hope, why that is its only food. ' 'Pray heaven I find itso, ' replied _Calista_. At that she sighed as if her heart had broken, and leaned her arm upon a rail of the end of the seat, and laid herlovely cheek upon her hand, and so continued without speaking; whileI, who was not a little transported with what I heard, with infinitepain with-held myself from kneeling at her feet, and prostratingbefore her that happy phantom of which she had spoke so favourably;but still I feared my fate, and to give any offence. While I wasamidst a thousand thoughts considering which to pursue, I could hear_Dormina_ snoring as fast as could be, leaning at her ease on theother end of the seat, supported by a wide marble rail; which_Calista_ hearing also, turned and looked on her, then softly rose andwalked away to see how long she would sleep there, if not waked. Judgenow, my dear _Octavio_, whether love and fortune were not absolutelysubdued to my interest, and if all things did not favour my design:the very thought of being alone with _Calista_, of making myself knownto her, of the opportunity she gave me by going from _Dormina_ into aby-walk, the very joy of ten thousand hopes, that filled my soul inthat happy moment, which I fancied the most blessed of my life, mademe tremble all over; and with unassured steps I softly pursued theobject of my new desire: sometimes I even overtook her, and fearing tofright her, and cause her to make some noise that might alarm thesleeping _Dormina_, I slackened my pace, till in a walk, at the end ofwhich she was obliged to turn back, I remained, and suffered her to goon; it was a walk of grass, broad, and at the end of it a littlearbour of greens, into which she went and sat down, looking towardsme; and methought she looked full at me; so that finding she made nonoise, I softly approached the door of the arbour at a convenientdistance; she then stood up in great amaze, as she after said; and Ikneeling down in an humble posture, cried--'Wonder not, oh sacredcharmer of my soul, to see me at your feet at this late hour, and in aplace so inaccessible; for what attempt is there so hazardousdespairing lovers dare not undertake, and what impossibility almostcan they not overcome? Remove your fears, oh conqueress of my soul;for I am an humble mortal that adores you; I have a thousand wounds, athousand pains that prove me flesh and blood, if you would hear mystory: oh give me leave to approach you with that awe you do thesacred altars; for my devotion is as pure as that which from yourcharming lips ascends the heavens----' With such cant and stuff asthis, which lovers serve themselves with on occasion, I lessened theterrors of the frighted beauty, and she soon saw, with joy in hereyes, that I both was a mortal, and the same she had before seen inthe outward garden: I rose from my knees then, and with a joy thatwandered all over my body, trembling and panting I approached her, andtook her hand and kissed it with a transport that was almost ready tolay me fainting at her feet, nor did she answer any thing to what Ihad said, but with sighs suffered her hand to remain in mine; her eyesshe cast to earth, her breast heaved with nimble motions, and we both, unable to support ourselves, sat down together on a green bank in thearbour, where by the light we had, we gazed at each other, unable toutter a syllable on either side. I confess, my dear _Octavio_, I havefelt love before, but do not know that ever I was possessed with suchpleasing pain, such agreeable languishment in all my life, as in thosehappy moments with the fair _Calista_: and on the other, I dare answerfor the soft fair one; she felt a passion as tender as mine; which, when she could recover her first transport, she expressed in such amanner as has wholly charmed me: for with all the eloquence of youngangels, and all their innocence too, she said, she whispered, shesighed the softest things that ever lover heard. I told you before shehad from her infancy been bred in a monastery, kept from the sight ofmen, and knew no one art or subtlety of her sex; but in the verypurity of her innocence she appeared like the first-born maid inParadise, generously giving her soul away to the great lord of all, the new-formed man, and nothing of her heart's dear thoughts she didreserve, (but such as modest nature should conceal;) yet, if I touchedbut on that tender part where honour dwelt, she had a sense too nice, as it was a wonder to find so vast a store of that mixed with so softa passion. Oh what an excellent thing a perfect woman is, ere man hastaught her arts to keep her empire, by being himself inconstant! All Icould ask of love she freely gave, and told me every sentiment of herheart, but it was in such a way, so innocently she confessed herpassion, that every word added new flames to mine, and made me ragingmad: at last, she suffered me to kiss with caution; but one begatanother, ----that a number----and every one was an advance tohappiness; and I who knew my advantage, lost no time, but put eachminute to the properest use; now I embrace, clasp her fair lovely bodyclose to mine, which nothing parted but her shift and gown; my busyhands find passage to her breasts, and give and take a thousandnameless joys; all but the last I reaped; that heaven was stilldenied; though she were fainting in my trembling arms, still she hadwatching sense to guard that treasure: yet, in spite of all, athousand times I brought her to the very point of yielding; but oh shebegs and pleads with all the eloquence of love! tells me, that whatshe had to give me she gave, but would not violate her marriage-vow;no, not to save that life she found in danger with too much love, andtoo extreme desire: she told me, that I had undone her quite; shesighed, and wished that she had seen me sooner, ere fate had renderedher a sacrifice to the embraces of old _Clarinau_; she wept with love, and answered with a sob to every vow I made: thus by degrees shewrought me to undoing, and made me mad in love. It was thus we passedthe night; we told the hasty hours, and cursed their coming: we toldfrom ten to three, and all that time seemed but a little minute: norwould I let her go, who was as loath to part, till she had given meleave to see her often there; I told her all my story of her conquest, and how I came into the garden: she asked me pleasantly, if I were notafraid of old _Clarinau_; I told her no, of nothing but of his beinghappy with her, which thought I could not bear: she assured me I hadso little reason to envy him, that he rather deserved my compassion;for that, her aversion was so extreme to him; his person, years, histemper, and his diseases were so disagreeable to her, that she couldnot dissemble her disgust, but gave him most evident proofs of it toofrequently ever since she had the misfortune of being his wife; butthat since she had seen the charming _Philander_, (for so we must lether call him too) his company and conversation was whollyinsupportable to her; and but that he had ever used to let her havefour nights in the week her own, wherein he never disturbed herrepose, she should have been dead with his nasty entertainment: shevowed she never knew a soft desire but for _Philander_, she never hadthe least concern for any of his sex besides, and till she felt histouches----took in his kisses, and suffered his dear embraces, shenever knew that woman was ordained for any joy with man, but fanciedit designed in its creation for a poor slave to be oppressed atpleasure by the husband, dully to yield obedience and no more: but Ihad taught her now, she said, to her eternal ruin, that there was morein nature than she knew, or ever should, had she not seen _Philander_;she knew not what dear name to call it by, but something in her blood, something that panted in her heart, glowed in her cheeks, andlanguished in her looks, told her she was not born for _Clarinau_, orlove would do her wrong: I soothed the thought, and urged the laws ofnature, the power of love, necessity of youth----and the wonder thatwas yet behind, that ravishing something, which not love or kissescould make her guess at; so beyond all soft imagination, that nothingbut a trial could convince her; but she resisted still, and still Ipleaded with all the subtlest arguments of love, words mixed withkisses, sighing mixed with vows, but all in vain; religion was my foe, and tyrant honour guarded all her charms: thus did we pass the night, till the young morn advancing in the East forced us to bid adieu:which oft we did, and oft we sighed and kissed, oft parted andreturned, and sighed again, and as she went away, she weeping, cried, --wringing my hand in hers, 'Pray heaven, _Philander_, this dearinterview do not prove fatal to me; for oh, I find frail nature weakabout me, and one dear minute more would forfeit all my honour. ' Atthis she started from my trembling hand, and swept the walk like windso swift and sudden, and left me panting, sighing, wishing, dying, with mighty love and hope: and after a little time I scaled my wall, and returned unseen to my new lodging. It was four days after before Icould get any other happiness, but that of seeing her at her window, which was just against mine, from which I never stirred, hardly to eator sleep, and that she saw with joy; for every morning I had a billetfrom her, which we contrived that happy night should be conveyed methus--It was a by-street where I lodged, and the other side was onlythe dead wall of her garden, where early in the morning she used towalk; and having the billet ready, she put it with a stone into alittle leathern-purse, and tossed it over the wall, where eithermyself from the window, or my young friend below waited for it, andthat way every morning and every evening she received one from me; but'tis impossible to tell you the innocent passion she expressed inthem, innocent in that there was no art, no feigned nice folly toexpress a virtue that was not in the soul; but all she spoke confessedher heart's soft wishes. At last, (for I am tedious in a relation ofwhat gave me so much pleasure in the entertainment) at last, I say, Ireceived the happy invitation to come into the garden as before; andnight advancing for my purpose, I need not say that I delivered myselfupon the place appointed, which was by the fountain-side beneath herchamber-window; towards which I cast, you may believe, many a longinglook: the clock struck ten, eleven, and then twelve, but no dear starappeared to conduct me to my happiness; at last I heard the littlegarden-door (against the fountain) open, and saw _Calista_ therewrapped in her night-gown only: I ran like lightning to her arms, withall the transports of an eager lover, and almost smothered myself inher warm rising breast; for she taking me in her arms let go her gown, which falling open, left nothing but her shift between me and all hercharming body. But she bid me hear what she had to say before Iproceeded farther; she told me she was forced to wait till _Dormina_was asleep, who lay in her chamber, and then stealing the key, shecame softly down to let me in. 'But, ' said she, 'since I am allundressed, and cannot walk in the garden with you, will you promiseme, on love and honour, to be obedient to all my commands, if I carryyou to my chamber? for _Dormina_'s sleep is like death itself;however, lest she chance to awake, and should take an occasion tospeak to me, it were absolutely necessary that I were there; for sinceI served her such a trick the other night, and let her sleep so long, she will not let me walk late. ' A very little argument persuaded me toyield to any thing to be with _Calista_ any where; so that bothreturning softly to her chamber, she put herself into bed, and left mekneeling on the carpet: but it was not long that I remained so; fromthe dear touches of her hands and breast we came to kisses, and soequally to a forgetfulness of all we had promised and agreed onbefore, and broke all rules and articles that were not in the favourof love; so that stripping myself by degrees, while she with anunwilling force made some feeble resistance, I got into the arms ofthe most charming woman that ever nature made; she was all overperfection; I dare not tell you more; let it suffice she was all thatluxurious man could wish, and all that renders woman fine andravishing. About two hours thus was my soul in rapture, whilesometimes she reproached me, but so gently, that it was to bid mestill be false and perjured, if these were the effects of it; 'Ifdisobedience have such wondrous charms, may I, ' said she, 'be stillcommanding thee, and thou still disobeying. ' While thus we lay withequal ravishment, we heard a murmuring noise at a distance, which weknew not what to make of, but it grew still louder and louder, butstill at a distance too; this first alarmed us, and I was no soonerpersuaded to rise, but I heard a door unlock at the side of the bed, which was not that by which I entered; for that was at the other endof the chamber towards the window. 'Oh heavens, ' said the fairfrighted trembler, 'here is the Count of _Clarinau_. ' For he alwayscame up that way, and those stairs by which I ascended were theback-stairs; so that I had just time to grope my way towards the door, without so much as taking my clothes with me; never was any amorousadventurer in so lamentable a condition, I would fain have turned uponhim, and at once have hindered him from entering with my sword in myhand, and secured him from ever disturbing my pleasure any more; butshe implored I would not, and in this minute's dispute he came so nearme, that he touched me as I glided from him; but not being acquaintedvery well with the chamber, having never seen my way, I lighted in mypassage on _Dormina_'s pallet-bed, and threw myself quite over her tothe chamber-door, which made a damnable clattering, and awaking_Dormina_ with my catastrophe, she set up such a bawl, as frighted andalarmed the old Count, who was just taking in a candle from hisfootman, who had lighted it at his flambeau: So that hearing thenoise, and knowing it must be some body in the chamber, he let fallhis candle in the fright, and called his footman in with the flambeau, draws his Toledo, which he had in his hand, and wrapped in hisnight-gown, with three or four woollen caps one upon the top ofanother, tied under his tawny, leathern chops, he made a very pleasantfigure, and such a one as had like to have betrayed me by laughing atit; he closely pursued me, though not so close as to see me beforehim; yet so as not to give me time to ascend the wall, or to make myescape up or down any walk, which were straight and long, and not ableto conceal any body from pursuers, approached so near as the Count wasto me: what should I do? I was naked, unarmed, and no defence againsthis jealous rage; and now in danger of my life, I knew not what toresolve on; yet I swear to you, _Octavio_, even in that minute (whichI thought my last) I had no repentance of the dear sin, or any otherfear, but that which possessed me for the fair _Calista_; and callingupon _Venus_ and her son for my safety (for I had scarce a thought yetof any other deity) the sea-born queen lent me immediate aid, and ereI was aware of it, I touched the fountain, and in the same minutethrew myself into the water, which a mighty large basin or cistern ofwhite marble contained, of a compass that forty men might have hidthemselves in it; they had pursued me so hard, they fancied they heardme press the gravel near the fountain, and with the torch theysearched round about it, and beat the fringing flowers that grewpretty high about the bottom of it, while I sometimes dived, andsometimes peeped up to take a view of my busy coxcomb, who had like tohave made me burst into laughter many times to see his figure; thedashing of the stream, which continually fell from the little pipesabove in the basin, hindered him from hearing the noise I mightpossibly have made by my swimming in it: after he had surveyed itround without-side, he took the torch in his own hand, and surveyedthe water itself, while I dived, and so long forced to remain so, thatI believed I had escaped his sword to die that foolisher way; but justas I was like to expire, he departed muttering, that he was sure somebody did go out before him; and now he searched every walk and arbourof the garden, while like a fish I lay basking in element still, notdaring to adventure out, lest his hasty return should find me on thewall, or in my passage over: I thanked my stars he had not found theladder, so that at last returning to _Calista_'s chamber, afterfinding no body, he desired (as I heard the next morning) to know whatthe matter was in her chamber: but _Calista_, who till now never knewan art, had before he came laid her bed in order, and taken up myclothes, and put them between her bed and quilt; not forgetting anyone thing that belonged to me, she was laid as fast asleep asinnocence itself; so that _Clarinau_ awaking her, she seemed assurprised and ignorant of all, as if she had indeed been innocent; sothat _Dormina_ now remained the only suspected person; who being askedwhat she could say concerning that uproar she made, she only said, asshe thought, that she dreamed His Honour fell out of the bed upon her, and awaking in a fright she found it was but a dream, and so she fellasleep again till he awaked her whom she wondered to see there at thathour; he told them that while they were securely sleeping he was liketo have been burned in his bed, a piece of his apartment being burneddown, which caused him to come thither; but he made them both swearthat there was no body in the chamber of _Calista_, before he would beundeceived; for he vowed he saw something in the garden, which, to histhinking, was all white, and it vanished on the sudden behind thefountain, and we could see no more of it. _Calista_ dissembledabundance of fear, and said she would never walk after candlelight forfear of that ghost; and so they passed the rest of the night, while I, all wet and cold, got me to my lodging unperceived, for my youngfriend had left the door open for me. 

Thus, dear _Octavio_, I have sent you a novel, instead of a letter, ofmy first most happy adventure, of which I must repeat thus much again, that of all the enjoyments I ever had, I was never so perfectly wellentertained for two hours, and I am waiting with infinite patience fora second encounter. I shall be extremely glad to hear what progressyou have made in your amour; for I have lost all for _Sylvia_, but theaffection of a brother, with that natural pity we have for those wehave undone; for my heart, my soul and body are all _Calista_'s, thebright, the young, the witty, the gay, the fondly-loving _Calista_:only some reserve I have in all for _Octavio_. Pardon this longhistory, for it is a sort of acting all one's joys again, to betelling them to a friend so dear, as is the gallant _Octavio_ to

PHILANDER. 

POSTSCRIPT. 

_I should, for some reasons that concern my safety, have quitted Mstown before, but I am chained to it, and no sense of danger while_Calista _compels my stay. _

If _Octavio_'s trouble was great before, from but his fear of_Calista_'s yielding, what must it be now, when he found all his fearsconfirmed? The pressures of his soul were too extreme before, and theconcern he had for _Sylvia_ had brought it to the highest tide ofgrief; so that this addition overwhelmed it quite, and left him noroom for rage; no, it could not discharge itself so happily, but bowedand yielded to all the extremes of love, grief, and sense of honour;he threw himself upon his bed, and lay without sense or motion for awhole hour, confused with thought, and divided in his concern, halffor a mistress false, and half for a sister loose and undone; by turnsthe sister and the mistress torture; by turns they break his heart: hehad this comfort left before, that if _Calista_ were undone, her ruinmade way for his love and happiness with _Sylvia_, but now----he hadno prospect left that could afford any ease; he changes from one sadobject to another, from _Sylvia_ to _Calista_, then back to _Sylvia_;but like to feverish men that toss about here and there, remove forsome relief, he shifts but to new pain, wherever he turns he finds themadman still: in this distraction of thought he remained till a pagefrom _Sylvia_ brought him this letter, which in midst of all, hestarted from his bed with excess of joy, and read. 

SYLVIA _to_ OCTAVIO. 

_My Lord_, After your last affront by your page, I believe it will surprise youto receive any thing from _Sylvia_ but scorn and disdain: but, mylord, the interest you have by a thousand ways been so long making inmy heart, cannot so soon be cancelled by a minute's offence; and everyaction of your life has been too generous to make me think you writwhat I have received, at least you are not well in your senses: I havecommitted a fault against your love, I must confess, and am notashamed of the little cheat I put upon you in bringing you to bed to_Antonet_ instead of _Sylvia_: I was ashamed to be so easily won, andtook it ill your passion was so mercenary to ask so coarsely for thepossession of me; too great a pay I thought for so poor service, asrendering up a letter which in honour you ought before to have shewedme: I own I gave you hope, in that too I was criminal; but these arefaults that sure deserved a kinder punishment than what I lastreceived--a whore--, a common mistress! Death, you are a coward----andeven to a woman dare not say it, when she confronts thescandaler, ----Yet pardon me, I mean not to revile, but gently toreproach; it was unkind----at least allow me that, and much unlike_Octavio_. 

I think I had not troubled you, my lord, with the least confession ofmy resentment, but I could not leave the town, where for the honour ofyour conversation and friendship alone I have remained so long, without acquitting myself of those obligations I had to you; I sendyou therefore the key of my closet and cabinet, where you shall findnot only your letters, but all those presents you have been pleasedonce to think me worthy of: but having taken back your friendship, Irender you the less valuable trifles, and will retain no more of_Octavio_, than the dear memory of that part of his life that was soagreeable to the unfortunate

SYLVIA. 

He reading this letter, finished with tears of tender love; butconsidering it all over, he fancied she had put great constraint uponher natural high spirit to write in this calm manner to him, andthrough all he found dissembled rage, which yet was visible in thatone breaking out in the middle of the letter: he found she was notable to contain at the word, common mistress. In fine, however calm itwas, and however designed, he found, and at least he thought he foundthe charming jilt all over; he fancies from the hint she gave him ofthe change of _Antonet_ for herself in bed, that it was some new cheatthat was to be put upon him, and to bring herself off with credit:yet, in spite of all this appearing reason, he wishes, and has asecret hope, that either she is not in fault, or that she will socozen him into a belief she is not, that it may serve as well tosoothe his willing heart; and now all he fears is, that she will notput so neat a cheat upon him, but that he shall be able to see throughit, and still be obliged to retain his ill opinion of her: but lovereturned, she had roused the flame anew, and softened all his rougherthoughts with this dear letter; and now in haste he calls for hisclothes, and suffering himself to be dressed with all the advantage ofhis sex, he throws himself into his coach, and goes to _Sylvia_, whomhe finds just dressed _en chevalier_, (and setting her head andfeather in good order before the glass) with a design to depart thetown, at least so far as should have raised a concern in _Octavio_, ifyet he had any for her, to have followed her; he ran up without askingleave into her chamber; and ere she was aware of him he threw himselfat her feet, and clasping her knees, to which he fixed his mouth, heremained there for a little space without life or motion, and pressedher in his arms as fast as a dying man. She was not offended to seehim there, and he appeared more lovely than ever he yet had been. Hisgrief had added a languishment and paleness to his face, whichsufficiently told her he had not been at ease while absent from her;and on the other side, _Sylvia_ appeared ten thousand times morecharming than ever, the dress of a boy adding extremely to her beauty:'Oh you are a pretty lover, ' said she, raising him from her knees toher arms, 'to treat a mistress so for a little innocentraillery. ----Come, sit and tell me how you came to discover theharmless cheat;' setting him down on the side of her bed. 'Oh name itno more, ' cried he, 'let that damned night be blotted from the year, deceive me, flatter me, say you are innocent; tell me my senses rave, my eyes were false, deceitful, and my ears were deaf: say any thingthat may convince my madness, and bring me back to tame adoring love. ''What means _Octavio_, ' replied _Sylvia_, 'sure he is not so nice andsqueamish a lover, but a fair young maid might have been welcome tohim coming so prepared for love; though it was not she whom heexpected, it might have served as well in the dark at least?' 'Wellsaid, ' replied _Octavio_, forcing a smile '----advance, pursue thedear design, and cheat me still, and to convince my soul, oh swear ittoo, for women want no weapons of defence, oaths, vows, and tears, sighs, imprecations, ravings, are all the tools to fashion mankindcoxcombs: I am an easy fellow, fit for use, and long to be initiatedfool; come, swear I was not here the other night. ' 'It is granted, sir, you were: why all this passion?' This _Sylvia_ spoke, and tookhim by the hand, which burnt with raging fire; and though he spokewith all the heat of love, his looks were soft the while as infant_Cupids_: still he proceeded; 'Oh charming _Sylvia_, since you are sounkind to tell me truth, cease, cease to speak at all, and let me onlygaze upon those eyes that can so well deceive: their looks areinnocent, at least they will flatter me, and tell mine they lost theirfaculties that other night. ' 'No, ' replied _Sylvia_, 'I am convincedthey did not, you saw _Antonet_----' 'Conduct a happy man'(interrupted he) 'to _Sylvia_'s bed. Oh, why by your confession mustmy soul be tortured over anew!' At this he hung his head upon hisbosom, and sighed as if each breath would be his last. 'Heavens!'cried _Sylvia_, 'what is it _Octavio_ says! Conduct a happy lover tomy bed! by all that is sacred I am abused, designed upon to bebetrayed and lost; what said you, sir, a lover to my bed!' When hereplied in a fainting tone, clasping her to his arms, 'Now, _Sylvia_, you are kind, be perfect woman, and keep to cozening still----Now backit with a very little oath, and I am as well as before I saw yourfalsehood, and never will lose one thought upon it more. ' 'Forbear, 'said she, 'you will make me angry. In short, what is it you would say?Or swear, you rave, and then I will pity what I now despise, if youcan think me false. ' He only answered with a sigh, and she pursued, 'Am I not worth an answer? Tell me your soul and thoughts, as ever youhope for favour from my love, or to preserve my quiet. ' 'If you willpromise me to say it is false, ' replied he softly, 'I will confess theerrors of my senses. I came the other night at twelve, the door wasopen. -----' 'It is true, ' said _Sylvia_----'At the stairs-foot I founda man, and saw him led to you into your chamber, sighing as he went, and panting with impatience: now, _Sylvia_, if you value my repose, mylife, my reputation, or my services, turn it off handsomely, and I amhappy. ' At that, being wholly amazed, she told him the whole story, asyou heard of her dressing _Antonet_, and bringing him to her; at whichhe smiled, and begged her to go on----She fetched the pieces of_Brilliard_'s counterfeit letters, and shewed him; this brought him alittle to his wits, and at first sight he was ready to fancy theletters came indeed from him; he found the character his, but not hisbusiness; and in great amaze replied, 'Ah, madam, did you know_Octavio_'s soul so well, and could you imagine it capable of athought like this? A presumption so daring to the most awful of hersex; this was unkind indeed: and did you answer them?' 'Yes, ' repliedshe, 'with all the kindness I could force my pen to express. ' So thatafter canvassing the matter, and relating the whole story again withhis being taken ill, they concluded from every circumstance_Brilliard_ was the man; for _Antonet_ was called to council; who nowrecollecting all things in her mind, and knowing _Brilliard_ but toowell, she confessed she verily believed it was he, especially when shetold how she stole a letter of _Octavio_'s for him that day, and howhe was ill of the same disease still. _Octavio_ then called his page, and sent him home for the note _Brilliard_ had sent him, and allappeared as clear as day: but _Antonet_ met with a great manyreproaches for shewing her lady's letters, which she excused as wellas she could: but never was man so ravished with joy as _Octavio_ wasat the knowledge of _Sylvia_'s innocence; a thousand times he kneeledand begged her pardon; and her figure encouraging his caresses, athousand times he embraced her, he smiled, and blushed, and sighedwith love and joy, and knew not how to express it most effectually:and _Sylvia_, who had other business than love in her heart and head, suffered all the marks of his eager passion and transport out ofdesign, for she had a farther use to make of _Octavio_; though whenshe surveyed his person handsome, young, and adorned with all thegraces and beauties of the sex, not at all inferior to _Philander_, ifnot exceeding in every judgement but that of _Sylvia_; when sheconsidered his soul, where wit, love, and honour equally reigned, whenshe consults the excellence of his nature, his generosity, courage, friendship, and softness, she sighed and cried, it was pity to imposeupon him; and make his love for which she should esteem him, aproperty to draw him to his ruin; for so she fancied it must be ifever he encountered _Philander_; and though good nature was the leastingredient that formed the soul of this fair charmer, yet now shefound she had a mixture of it, from her concern for _Octavio_; andthat generous lover made her so many soft vows, and tenderprotestations of the respect and awfulness of his passion, that shewas wholly convinced he was her slave; nor could she see the constantlanguisher pouring out his soul and fortune at her feet, withoutsuffering some warmth about her heart, which she had never felt butfor _Philander_; and this day she expressed herself more obliginglythan ever she had done, and allows him little freedoms of approachingher with more softness than hitherto she had; and, absolutely charmed, he promises, lavishly and without reserve, all she would ask of him;and in requital she assured him all he could wish or hope, if he wouldserve her in her revenge against _Philander_: she recounts to him atlarge the story of her undoing, her quality, her fortune, her niceeducation, the care and tenderness of her noble parents, and chargesall her fate to the evil conduct of her heedless youth: sometimes thereflection on her ruin, she looking back upon her former innocence andtranquillity, forces the tears to flow from her fair eyes, and makes_Octavio_ sigh, and weep by sympathy: sometimes (arrived at theamorous part of her relation) she would sigh and languish with theremembrance of past joys in their beginning love; and sometimes smileat the little unlucky adventures they met with, and their escapes; sothat different passions seized her soul while she spoke, while that ofall love filled _Octavio_'s: he dotes, he burns, and every word sheutters enflames him still the more; he fixes his very soul upon hertongue, and darts his very eyes into her face, and every thing shesays raises his vast esteem and passion higher. In fine, having withthe eloquence of sacred wit, and all the charms of every differingpassion, finished her moving tale, they both declined their eyes, whose falling showers kept equal time and pace, and for a little timewere still as thought: when _Octavio_, oppressed with mighty love, broke the soft silence, and burst into extravagance of passion, saysall that men (grown mad with love and wishing) could utter to the idolof his heart; and to oblige her more, recounts his life in short;wherein, in spite of all his modesty, she found all that was great andbrave; all that was noble, fortunate and honest: and having nowconfirmed her, he deserved her, kneeling implored she would accept ofhim, not as a lover for a term of passion, for dates of months oryears, but for a long eternity; not as a rifler of her sacred honour, but to defend it from the censuring world; he vowed he would forgetthat ever any part of it was lost, nor by a look or action everupbraid her with a misfortune past, but still look forward on noblerjoys to come: and now implores that he may bring a priest to tie thesolemn knot. In spite of all her love for _Philander_, she could notchoose but take this offer kindly; and indeed, it made a very greatimpression on her heart; she knew nothing but the height of love couldoblige a man of his quality and vast fortune, with all the advantagesof youth and beauty, to marry her in so ill circumstances; and payinghim first those acknowledgements that were due on so great anoccasion, with all the tenderness in her voice and eyes that she couldput on, she excused herself from receiving the favour, by telling himshe was so unfortunate as to be with child by the ungrateful man; andfalling at that thought into new tears, she moved him to infinitelove, and infinite compassion; insomuch that, wholly abandoninghimself to softness, he assured her, if she would secure him all hishappiness by marrying him now, that he would wait till she werebrought to bed, before he would demand the glorious recompense heaspired to; so that _Sylvia_, being oppressed with obligation, findingyet in her soul a violent passion for _Philander_, she knew not how totake, or how to refuse the blessing offered, since _Octavio_ was a manwhom, in her height of innocence and youth, she might have been vainand proud of engaging to this degree. He saw her pain andirresolution, and being absolutely undone with love, delivers her_Philander_'s last letter to him, with what he had sent her enclosed;the sight of the very outside of it made her grow pale as death, and afeebleness seized her all over, that made her unable for a moment toopen it; all which confusion _Octavio_ saw with pain, which sheperceiving recollected her thoughts as well as she could, and openedit, and read it; that to _Octavio_ first, as being fondest of thecontinuation of the history of his falsehood, she read, and oftenpaused to recover her spirits that were fainting at every period; andhaving finished it, she fell down on the bed where they sat. _Octavio_caught her in her fall in his arms, where she remained dead somemoments; whilst he, just on the point of being so himself, ravinglycalled for help; and _Antonet_ being in the dressing-room ran to them, and by degrees _Sylvia_ recovered, and asked _Octavio_ a thousandpardons for exposing a weakness to him, which was but the effects ofthe last blaze of love: and taking a cordial which _Antonet_ broughther, she roused, resolved, and took _Octavio_ by the hand: 'Now, ' saidshe, 'shew yourself that generous lover you have professed, and giveme your vows of revenge on _Philander_; and after that, by all that isholy, ' kneeling as she spoke, and holding him fast, 'by all my injuredinnocence, by all my noble father's wrongs, and my dear mother'sgrief; by all my sister's sufferings, I swear, I will marry you, loveyou, and give you all!' This she spoke without considering _Antonet_was by, and spoke it with all the rage, and blushes in her face, thatinjured love and revenge could inspire: and on the other side, thesense of his sister's honour lost, and that of the tender passion hehad for _Sylvia_, made him swear by all that was sacred, and by allthe vows of eternal love and honour he had made to _Sylvia_, to go andrevenge himself and her on the false friend and lover, and confessedthe second motive, which was his sister's fame, 'For, ' cried he, 'thatfoul adulteress, that false _Calista_, is so allied to me. ' But stillhe urged that would add to the justness of his cause, if he mightdepart her husband as well as lover, and revenge an injured wife aswell as sister; and now he could ask nothing she did not easily grant;and because it was late in the day, they concluded that the morningshall consummate all his desires: and now she gives him her letter toread; 'For, ' said she, 'I shall esteem myself henceforth so absolutely_Octavio_'s, that I will not so much as read a line from that perjuredruiner of my honour;' he took the letter with smiles and bows ofgratitude, and read it. 

PHILANDER _to_ SYLVIA. 

There are a thousand reasons, dearest _Sylvia_, at this time thatprevent my writing to you, reasons that will be convincing enough tooblige my pardon, and plead my cause with her that loves me: all whichI will lay before you when I have the happiness to see you; I have metwith some affairs since my arrival to this place, that wholly take upmy time; affairs of State, whose fatigues have put my heart extremelyout of tune, and if not carefully managed may turn to my perpetualruin, so that I have not an hour in a day to spare for _Sylvia_;which, believe me, is the greatest affliction of my life; and I haveno prospect of ease in the endless toils of life, but that of reposingin the arms of _Sylvia_: some short intervals: pardon my haste, foryou cannot guess the weighty business that at present robs you of

_Your_ PHILANDER. 

'You lie, false villain-----' replied _Sylvia_ in mighty rage, 'I canguess your business, and can revenge it too; curse on thee, slave, tothink me grown as poor in sense as honour: to be cajoled withthis--stuff that would never sham a chambermaid: death! am I soforlorn, so despicable, I am not worth the pains of being welldissembled with? Confusion overtake him, misery seize him; may Ibecome his plague while life remains, or public tortures end him!'This, with all the madness that ever inspired a lunatic, she utteredwith tears and violent actions: when _Octavio_ besought her not toafflict herself, and almost wished he did not love a temper socontrary to his own: he told her he was sorry, extremely sorry, tofind she still retained so violent a passion for a man unworthy of herleast concern; when she replied--'Do not mistake my soul, by heaven itis pride, disdain, despite and hate--to think he should believe thisdull excuse could pass upon my judgement; had the false traitor toldme that he hated me, or that his faithless date of love was out, I hadbeen tame with all my injuries; but poorly thus to impose upon mywit--By heaven he shall not bear the affront to hell in triumph! Nomore--I have vowed he shall not--my soul has fixed, and now will be atease--Forgive me, oh _Octavio_;' and letting herself fall into hisarms, she soon obtained what she asked for; one touch of the faircharmer could calm him into love and softness. 

Thus, after a thousand transports of passion on his side, and all theseeming tenderness on hers, the night being far advanced, and newconfirmations given and taken on either side of pursuing the happyagreement in the morning, which they had again resolved, theyappointed that _Sylvia_ and _Antonet_ should go three miles out oftown to a little village, where there was a church, and that _Octavio_should meet them there to be confirmed and secured of all thehappiness he proposed to himself in this world--_Sylvia_ being sowholly bent upon revenge (for the accomplishment of which alone sheaccepted of _Octavio_) that she had lost all remembrance of her formermarriage with _Brilliard_: or if it ever entered into her thought, itwas only considered as a sham, nothing designed but to secure her frombeing taken from _Philander_ by her parents; and, without any respectto the sacred tie, to be regarded no more; nor did she design thiswith _Octavio_ from any respect she had to the holy state ofmatrimony, but from a lust of vengeance which she would buy at anyprice, and which she found no man so well able to satisfy as_Octavio_. 

But what wretched changes of fortune she met with after this, and whatmiserable portion of fate was destined to this unhappy wanderer, thelast part of _Philander_'s life, and the third and last part of thishistory, shall most faithfully relate. 

_The End of the Second Part. _

The Amours of Philander and Sylvia

Part III. 

_Octavio_, the brave, the generous, and the amorous, having left_Sylvia_ absolutely resolved to give herself to that doting fondlover, or rather to sacrifice herself to her revenge, thatunconsidering unfortunate, whose passion had exposed him to all theunreasonable effects of it, returned to his own house, whollytransported with his happy success. He thinks on nothing but vastcoming joys: nor did one kind thought direct him back to the evilconsequences of what he so hastily pursued; he reflects not on hercircumstances but her charms, not on the infamy he should espouse with_Sylvia_, but on those ravishing pleasures she was capable of givinghim: he regards not the reproaches of his friends; but whollyabandoned to love and youthful imaginations, gives a loose to youngdesire and fancy that deludes him with a thousand soft ideas: hereflects not, that his gentle and easy temper was most unfit to joinwith that of _Sylvia_, which was the most haughty and humorous innature; for though she had all the charms of youth and beauty that areconquering in her sex, all the wit and insinuation that even surpassesyouth and beauty; yet to render her character impartially, she hadalso abundance of disagreeing qualities mixed with her perfections. She was imperious and proud even to insolence; vain and conceited evento folly; she knew her virtues and her graces too well, and her vicestoo little; she was very opinionated and obstinate, hard to beconvinced of the falsest argument, but very positive in her fanciedjudgement: abounding in her own sense, and very critical on that ofothers: censorious, and too apt to charge others with those crimes towhich she was herself addicted, or had been guilty of: amorouslyinclined, and indiscreet in the management of her amours, and constantrather from pride and shame than inclination; fond of catching atevery trifling conquest, and loving the triumph, though she hated theslave. Yet she had virtues too that balanced her vices, among which wemust allow her to have loved _Philander_ with a passion, that nothingbut his ingratitude could have decayed in her heart, nor was itlessened but by a force that gave her a thousand tortures, racks andpangs, which had almost cost her her less valued life; for being of atemper nice in love, and very fiery, apt to fly into rages at everyaccident that did but touch that tenderest part, her heart, shesuffered a world of violence, and extremity of rage and grief byturns, at this affront and inconstancy of _Philander_. Neverthelessshe was now so discreet, or rather cunning, to dissemble herresentment the best she could to her generous lover, for whom she hadmore inclination than she yet had leisure to perceive, and which shenow attributes wholly to her revenge; and considering _Octavio_ as themost proper instrument for that, she fancies what was indeed a growingtenderness from the sense of his merit, to be the effects of thatrevenge she so much thirsted after; and though without she dissembleda calm, within she was all fury and disorder, all storm anddistraction: she went to bed racked with a thousand thoughts ofdespairing love: sometimes all the softness of _Philander_ in theirhappy enjoyments came in view, and made her sometimes weep, andsometimes faint with the dear loved remembrance; sometimes his lateenjoyments with _Calista_, and then she raved and burnt with franticrage: but oh! at last she found her hope was gone, and wisely fell toargue with her soul. She knew love would not long subsist on the thindiet of despair, and resolving he was never to be retrieved who oncehad ceased to love, she strove to bend her soul to useful reason, andthinks on all _Octavio_'s obligations, his vows, his assiduity, hisbeauty, his youth, his fortune, and his generous offer, and with theaid of pride resolves to unfix her heart, and give it better treatmentin his bosom: to cease at least to love the false _Philander_, if shecould never force her soul to hate him: and though this was not sosoon done as thought on, in a heart so prepossesed as that of_Sylvia_'s, yet there is some hope of a recovery, when a woman in thatextremity will but think of listening to love from any new adorer, andhaving once resolved to pursue the fugitive no more with the naturalartillery of their sighs and tears, reproaches and complaints, theyhave recourse to every thing that may soonest chase from the heartthose thoughts that oppress it: for nature is not inclined to hurtitself; and there are but very few who find it necessary to die of thedisease of love. Of this sort was our _Sylvia_, though to give her herdue, never any person who did not indeed die, ever languished underthe torments of love, as did that charming and afflicted maid. 

While _Sylvia_ remained in these eternal inquietudes, _Antonet_, having quitted her chamber, takes this opportunity to go to that of_Brilliard_, whom she had not visited in two days before, beingextremely troubled at his design, which she now found he had on herlady; she had a mind to vent her spleen, and as the proverb says, 'Call Whore first'. _Brilliard_ longed as much to see her to rail ather for being privy to _Octavio_'s approach to _Sylvia_'s bed (as hethought she imagined) and not giving him an account of it, as she usedto do of all the secrets of her lady. She finds him alone in herchamber, recovered from all but the torments of his unhappydisappointment. She approached him with all the anger her sort ofpassion could inspire (for love in a mean unthinking soul, is not thatglorious thing it is in the brave;) however she had enough to serveher pleasure; for _Brilliard_ was young and handsome, and both beingbent on railing without knowing each other's intentions, they bothequally flew into high words, he upbraiding her with her infidelity, and she him with his. 'Are not you, ' said he (growing more calm) 'thefalsest of your tribe, to keep a secret from me that so much concernedme? Is it for this I have refused the addresses of burgomasters' wivesand daughters, where I could have made my fortune and my satisfaction, to keep myself entirely for a thing that betrays me, and keeps everysecret of her heart from me? False and forsworn, I will be fool nomore. ' 'It is well, sir, ' (replied _Antonet_) 'that you having beenthe most perfidious man alive, should accuse me who am innocent: come, come sir, you have not carried matters so swimmingly, but I couldeasily dive into the other night's intrigue and secret. ' 'What secretthou false one? Thou art all over secret; a very hopeful bawd ateighteen----go, I hate ye----' At this she wept, and he pursued hisrailing to out-noise her, 'You thought, because your deed were done indarkness, they were concealed from a lover's eye; no, thou youngviper, I saw, I heard, and felt, and satisfied every sense of this thyfalsehood, when _Octavio_ was conducted to _Sylvia_'s bed by thee. ''But what, ' said she, 'if instead of _Octavio_ I conducted theperfidious traitor to love, _Brilliard_? Who then was false andperjured?' At this he blushed extremely, which was too visible on hisfair face. She being now confirmed she had the better of him, continued--'Let thy confusion, ' said she with scorn, 'witness thetruth of what I say, and I have been but too well acquainted with thatbody of yours, ' weeping as she spoke, 'to mistake it for that of_Octavio_. ' 'Softly, dear _Antonet_, ' replied he----'nay, now yourtears have calmed me'; and taking her in his arms, sought to appeaseher by all the arguments of seeming love and tenderness; while she, yet wholly unsatisfied in that cheat of his of going to Sylvia's bed, remained still pouting and very frumpish. But he that had but oneargument left, that on all occasions served to convince her, had atlast recourse to that, which put her in good humour, and hanging onhis neck, she kindly chid him for putting such a trick upon her lady. He told her, and confirmed it with an oath, that he did it but to tryhow far she was just to his friend and lord, and not any desire he hadfor a beauty that was too much of his own complexion to charm him; itwas only the brunette and the black, such as herself, that could movehim to desire; thus he shams her into perfect peace. 'And why, ' saidshe, 'were you not satisfied that she was false, as well from theassignation, as the trial?' 'Oh no, ' said he, 'you women have athousand arts of gibing, and no man ought to believe you, but put youto the trial. ' 'Well, ' said she, 'when I had brought you to the bed, when you found her arms stretched out to receive you, why did you notretire like an honest man, and leave her to herself?' 'Oh fie, ' saidhe, 'that had not been to have acted _Octavio_ to the life, but wouldhave made a discovery. ' 'Ah, ' said she, 'that was your aim to haveacted _Octavio_ to the life, I believe, and not to discover my lady'sconstancy to your lord; but I suppose you have been sworn at the Buttof _Heidleburgh_, never to kiss the maid, when you can kiss themistress. ' But he renewing his caresses and asseverations of love toher, she suffered herself to be convinced of all he had a mind to haveher believe. After this she could not contain any secret from him, buttold him she had something to say to him, which if he knew, wouldconvince him she had all the passion in the world for him: he presseseagerly to know, and she pursues to tell him, it is as much as herlife is worth to discover it, and that she lies under the obligationof an oath not to tell it; but kisses and rhetoric prevail, and shecries--'What will you say now, if my lady may marry one of thegreatest and most considerable persons in all this country?' 'I shouldnot wonder at her conquest, ' (replied _Brilliard_) 'but I shouldwonder if she should marry. ' 'Then cease your wonder, ' replied she, 'for she is to-morrow to be married to Count _Octavio_, whom she is tomeet at nine in the morning to that end, at a little village a leaguefrom this place. ' She spoke, and he believes; and finds it true by theraging of his blood, which he could not conceal from _Antonet_, andfor which he feigns a thousand excuses to the amorous maid, andcharges his concern on that for his lord: at last (after some morediscourse on that subject) he pretends to grow sleepy, and hastens herto her chamber; and locking the door after her, he began to reflect onwhat she had said, and grew to all the torment of rage and jealousy, and all the despairs of a passionate lover: and though this hope wasnot extreme before, yet as lovers do, he found, or fancied aprobability (from his lord's inconstancy, and his own right ofmarriage) that the necessity she might chance to be in of hisfriendship and assistance in a strange country, might some happymoment or other render him the blessing he so long had waited for from_Sylvia_; for he ever designed, when either his lord left her, grewcold, or should happen to die, to put in his claim of husband. And thesoft familiar way, with which she eternally lived with him, encouragedthis hope and design; nay, she had often made him advances to thathappy expectation. But this fatal blow had driven him from all hisfancied joys, to the most wretched estate of a desperate lover. Hetraverses his chamber, wounded with a thousand different thoughts, mixed with those of preventing this union the next morning. Sometimeshe resolves to fight _Octavio_, for his birth might pretend to it, andhe wanted no courage; but he is afraid of being overcome by thatgallant man, and either losing his hopes with his life, or if hekilled _Octavio_, to be forced from his happiness, or die anignominious death: sometimes he resolves to own _Sylvia_ for his wife, but then he fears the rage of that dear object of his soul, which hedreads more than death itself: so that tossed from one extreme toanother, from one resolution to a hundred, he was not able to fix uponany thing. In this perplexity he remained till day appeared, that daymust advance with his undoing, while _Sylvia_ and _Antonet_ werepreparing for the design concluded on the last night. This he heard, and every minute that approached gave him new torments, so that now hewould have given himself to the Prince of Darkness for a kinddisappointment: he was often ready to go and throw himself at herfeet, and plead against her enterprise in hand, and to urge theunlawfulness of a double marriage, ready to make vows for the fidelityof _Philander_, though before so much against his own interest, and totell her all those letters from him were forged: he thought on allthings, but nothing remained with him, but despair of every thing. Atlast the devil and his own subtlety put him upon a prevention, thoughbase, yet the most likely to succeed, in his opinion. 

He knew there were many factions in _Holland_, and that the _States_themselves were divided in their interests, and a thousand jealousiesand fears were eternally spread amongst the rabble; there were cabalsfor every interest, that of the _French_ so prevailing, that of the_English_, and that of the illustrious _Orange_, and others for the_States_; so that it was not a difficulty to move any mischief, andpass it off among the crowd for dangerous consequences. _Brilliard_knew each division, and which way they were inclined; he knew_Octavio_ was not so well with the _States_ as not to be easilyrendered worse; for he was so entirely a creature and favourite of thePrince, that they conceived abundance of jealousies of him which theydurst not own. _Brilliard_ besides knew a great man, who having apique to _Octavio_, might the sooner be brought to receive any illcharacter of him: to this sullen magistrate he applies himself, anddeluding the credulous busy old man with a thousand circumstantiallies, he discovers to him, that _Octavio_ held a correspondence withthe _French_ King to betray the State; and that he caballed to thatend with some who were looked upon as _French_ rebels, but indeed wereno other than spies to _France_. This coming from a man of that party, and whose lord was a _French_ rebel, gained a perfect credit with theold Sir _Politic_; so that immediately hasting to the state-house, helays this weighty affair before them, who soon found it reasonable, ifnot true, at least they feared, and sent out a warrant for the speedyapprehending him; but coming to his house, though early, they foundhim gone, and being informed which way he took, the messenger pursuedhim, and found his coach at the door of a _cabaret_, too obscure forhis quality, which made them apprehend this was some place ofrendezvous where he possibly met with his traitorous associators: theysend in, and cunningly inquire who he waited for, or who was with him, and they understood he stayed for some gentleman of the _French_nation; for he had ordered _Sylvia_ to come in man's clothes that shemight not be known; and had given order below, that if two _French_gentlemen came they should be brought to him. This information madethe scandal as clear as day, and the messenger no longer doubted ofthe reasonableness of his warrant, though he was loath to serve it ona person whose father he had served so many years. He waits at somedistance from the house unseen, though he could take a view of all; hesaw _Octavio_ come often out into the balcony, and look with longingeyes towards the road that leads to the town; he saw him all rich andgay as a young bridegroom, lovely and young as the morning thatflattered him with so fair and happy a day; at last he saw twogentlemen alight at the door, and giving their horses to a page towalk the while, they ran up into the chamber where _Octavio_ waswaiting, who had already sent his page to prepare the priest in thevillage-church to marry them. You may imagine, with what love and joythe ravished youth approached the idol of his soul, and she, whobeholds him in more beauty than ever yet she thought he had appeared, pleased with all things he had on, with the gay morning, the floweryfield, the air, the little journey, and a thousand diverting things, made no resistance to those fond embraces that pressed her a thousandtimes with silent transport, and falling tears of eager love andpleasure; but even in that moment of content, she forgot _Philander_, and received all the satisfaction so soft a lover could dispense:while they were mutually thus exchanging looks, and almost hearts, themessenger came into the room, and as civilly as possible told_Octavio_ he had a warrant for him, to secure him as a traitor to theState, and a spy for _France_. You need not be told the surprise andastonishment he was in; however he obeyed. The messenger turning to_Sylvia_, cried, 'Sir, though I can hardly credit this crime that ischarged to my lord, yet the finding him here with two _French_gentlemen, gives me some more fears that there may be something in it;and it would do well if you would deliver yourselves into my hands forthe farther clearing this gentleman. ' This foolish grave speech of themessenger had like to have put _Octavio_ into a loud laughter, headdressing himself to two women for two men: but _Sylvia_ replied, 'Sir, I hope you do not take us for so little friends to the gallant_Octavio_, to abandon him in this misfortune; no, we will share itwith him, be it what it will. ' To this the generous lover blushingwith kind surprise, bowed, and kissing her hand with transport, calledher his charming friend; and so all three being guarded back in_Octavio_'s coach they return to the town, and to the house of themessenger, which made a great noise all over, that _Octavio_ was takenwith two _French_ Jesuits plotting to fire _Amsterdam_, and a thousandthings equally ridiculous. They were all three lodged together in onehouse, that of the messenger, which was very fine, and fit toentertain any persons of quality; while _Brilliard_, who did not likethat part of the project, bethought him of a thousand ways how to freeher from thence; for he designed, as soon as _Octavio_ should betaken, to have got her to have quitted the town under pretence ofbeing taken upon suspicion of holding correspondence with him, becausethey were _French_; but her delivering herself up had not only undoneall his design, but had made it unsafe for him to stay. While he wasthus bethinking himself what he should do, _Octavio_'s uncle, who wasone of the _States_, extremely affronted at the indignity put upon hisnephew and his sole heir, the darling of his heart and eyes, commandsthat this informer may be secured; and accordingly _Brilliard_ wastaken into custody, who giving himself over for a lost man, resolvesto put himself upon _Octavio_'s mercy, by telling him the motives thatinduced him to this violent and ungenerous course. It was some daysbefore the Council thought fit to call for _Octavio_, to hear what hehad to say for himself; in the mean time, he having not had permissionyet to see _Sylvia_; and being extremely desirous of that happiness, he bethought himself that the messenger, having been in his father'sservice, might have so much respect for the son, as to allow him tospeak to that fair charmer, provided he might be a witness to what heshould say: he sends for him, and demanded of him where those two fairprisoners were lodged who came with him in the morning; he told him, in a very good apartment on the same floor, and that they were verywell accommodated, and seemed to have no other trouble but what theysuffered for him. 'I hope, my Lord, ' added he--'your confinement willnot be long; for I hear there is a person taken up, who has confessedhe did it for a revenge on you. ' At this _Octavio_ was very wellpleased, and asked him who it was? And he told him a _French_gentleman belonging to the Count _Philander_, who about six months agowas obliged to quit the town as an enemy to _France_. He soon knew itto be _Brilliard_, and comparing this action with some others of hislately committed, he no longer doubts it the effects of his jealousy. He asked the messenger, if it were impossible to gain so much favourof him, as to let him visit those two _French_ gentlemen, he being bywhile he was with them: the keeper soon granted his request, andreplied--There was no hazard he would not run to serve him; andimmediately putting back the hangings, with one of those keys he hadin his hand, he opened a door in his chamber that led into a galleryof fine pictures, and from thence they passed into the apartment of_Sylvia_: as soon as he came in he threw himself at her feet, and shereceived him, and took him up into her arms with all the transports ofjoy a soul (more than ever possessed with love for him) couldconceive; and though they all appeared of the masculine sex, themessenger soon perceived his error, and begged a thousand pardons. _Octavio_ makes haste to tell her his opinion of the cause of all thistrouble to both; and she easily believed, when she heard _Brilliard_was taken, that it was as he imagined; for he had been found too oftenfaulty not to be suspected now. This thought brought a great calm toboth their spirits, and almost reduced them to the first softtranquillity, with which they began the day: for he protested hisinnocence a thousand times, which was wholly needless, for thegenerous maid believed, before he spoke, he could not be guilty of thesin of treachery. He renews his vows to her of eternal love, and thathe would perform what they were so unluckily prevented from doing thismorning; and that though possibly by this unhappy adventure, hisdesign might have taken air, and have arrived to the knowledge of hisuncle, yet in spite of all opposition of friends, or the malice of_Brilliard_, he would pursue his glorious design of marrying her, though he were forced for it to wander in the farthest parts of theearth with his lovely prize. He begs she will not disesteem him forthis scandal on his fame; for he was all love, all soft desire, andhad no other design, than that of making himself master of thatgreatest treasure in the world; that of the possessing, the mostcharming, the all-ravishing _Sylvia_: in return, she paid him all thevows that could secure an infidel in love, she made him all theendearing advances a heart could wish, wholly given up to tenderpassion, insomuch that he believes, and is the gayest man that everwas blest by love. And the messenger, who was present all this while, found that this caballing with the _French_ spies, was only aninnocent design to give himself away to a fine young lady: andtherefore gave them all the freedom they desired, and which they madeuse of to the most advantage love could direct or youth inspire. 

This suffering with _Octavio_ begot a pity and compassion in the heartof _Sylvia_, and that grew up to love; for he had all the charms thatcould inspire, and every hour was adding new fire to her heart, whichat last burnt into a flame; such power has mighty obligation on aheart that has any grateful sentiments! and yet, when she was absenta-nights from _Octavio_, and thought on _Philander_'s, passion for_Calista_, she would rage and rave, and find the effects of wondrouslove, and wondrous pride, and be even ready to make vows against_Octavio_: but those were fits that seldomer seized her now, and everyfit was like a departing ague, still weaker than the former, and atthe sight of _Octavio_ all would vanish, her blushes would rise anddiscover the soft thoughts her heart conceived for the approachinglover; and she soon found that vulgar error, of the impossibility ofloving more than once. It was four days they thus remained withoutbeing called to the Council, and every day brought its new joys alongwith it. They were never asunder, never interrupted with any visit, but one for a few moments in a day by _Octavio_'s uncle, and then hewould go into his own apartment to receive him: he offered to bail himout; but _Octavio_, who had found more real joy there, than in anypart of the earth besides, evaded the obligation, by telling hisuncle, he would be obliged to nothing but his innocence for hisliberty: so would get rid of the fond old gentleman, who never knew apassion but for his darling nephew, and returned with as much joy tothe lodgings of _Sylvia_, as if he had been absent a week, which is anage to a lover; there they sometimes would play at cards, where hewould lose considerable sums to her, or at hazard, or be studying whatthey should do next to pass the hours most to her content; not but hehad rather have lain eternally at her feet, gazing, doting, and sayinga thousand fond things, which at every view he took were conceived inhis soul: and though but this last minute he had finished, saying allthat love could dictate, he found his heart oppressed with a vaststore of new softness, which he languished to unload in her ravishingbosom. But she, who was not arrived to his pitch of loving, divertshis softer hours with play sometimes, and otherwhile with making himfollow her into the gallery, which was adorned with pleasant pictures, all of _Hempskerk_'s hand, which afforded great variety of objectsvery droll and antique, _Octavio_ finding something to say of everyone that might be of advantage to his own heart; for whatever argumentwas in dispute, he would be sure to bring it home to the passion hehad for _Sylvia_; it should end in love, however remotely begun: sostrange an art has love to turn all things to the advantage of alover!

It was thus they passed their time, and nothing was wanting thatlavish experience could procure, and every minute he advances to newfreedoms, and unspeakable delights, but still such as might hithertobe allowed with honour; he sighs and wishes, he languishes and diesfor more, but dares not utter the meaning of one motion of breath; forhe loved so very much, that every look from those fair eyes charmedhim, awed him to a respect that robbed him of many happy moments, abolder lover would have turned to his advantage, and he treated her asif she had been an unspotted maid; with caution of offending, he hadforgot that general rule, that where the sacred laws of honour areonce invaded, love makes the easier conquest. 

All this while you may imagine _Brilliard_ endured no little torment;he could not on the one side, determine what the _States_ would dowith him, when once they should find him a false accuser of so great aman; and on the other side, he suffered a thousand pains andjealousies from love; he knew too well the charms and power of_Octavio_, and what effects importunity and opportunity have on thetemper of feeble woman: he found the _States_ did not make soconsiderable a matter of his being impeached, as to confine himstrictly, and he dies with the fears of those happy moments he mightpossibly enjoy with _Sylvia_, where there might be no spies about herto give him any kind intelligence; and all that could afford him anyglimpse of consolation, was, that while they were thus confined, hewas out of fear of their being married. _Octavio_'s uncle this whilewas not idle, but taking it for a high indignity his nephew shouldremain so long without being heard, he moved it to the Council, andaccordingly they sent for him to the state-house the next morning, where _Brilliard_ was brought to confront him; whom, as soon as_Octavio_ saw, with a scornful smile, he cried, --'It is well, _Brilliard_, that you, who durst not fight me fairly, should find outthis nobler way of ridding yourself of a rival: I am glad at leastthat I have no more honourable a witness against me. ' _Brilliard_, whonever before wanted assurance, at this reproach was wholly confounded;for it was not from any villainy in his nature, but the absoluteeffects of mad and desperate passion, which put him on the only remedythat could relieve him; and looking on _Octavio_ with modest blushes, that half pleaded for him, he cried--'Yes, my lord, I am your accuser, and come to charge your innocence with the greatest of crimes, and youought to thank me for my accusation; when you shall know it is regardto my own honour, violent love for _Sylvia_, and extreme respect toyour lordship, has made me thus saucy with your unspotted fame. ''How, ' replied _Octavio_, 'shall I thank you for accusing me with aplot upon the State?' 'Yes, my lord, ' replied _Brilliard_; 'and yetyou had a plot to betray the State, and by so new a way, as could befound out by none but so great and brave a man'--'Heavens, ' replied_Octavio_, enraged, 'this is an impudence, that nothing but a traitorto his own king, and one bred up in plots and mischiefs, could haveinvented: I betray my own country?'--'Yes, my lord, ' cried he (morebriskly than before, seeing _Octavio_ colour so at him) 'to all thelooseness of unthinking youth, to all the breach of laws both humanand divine; if all the youth should follow your example, you wouldbetray posterity itself, and only mad confusion would abound. Inshort, my lord, that lady who was taken with you by the messenger, wasmy wife. ' And going towards _Sylvia_, who was struck as with athunder-bolt, he seized her hand, and cried, --while all stood gazingon--This lady, sir, I mean----she is my wife, my lawful married wife. 'At this _Sylvia_ could no longer hold her patience within its bounds, but with that other hand he had left her, she struck him a box on theear, that almost staggered him, coming unawares; and as she struck, she cried aloud, 'Thou liest, base villain----and I will be revenged;'and flinging herself out of his hand, she got on the other side of_Octavio_, while the whole company remained confounded at what theysaw and heard. 'How, ' cried out old _Sebastian_, uncle to _Octavio_, 'a woman, this? By my troth, sweet lady, (if you be one) methought youwere a very pretty fellow. ' And turning to _Brilliard_, hecried, --'Why, what sir, then it seems all this noise of betraying theState was but a cuckold's dream. Hah! and this wonderful and dangerousplot, was but one upon your wife, sir; hah, ----was it so? Marry, sir, at this rate, I rather think it is you have a design of betraying theState----you cuckoldy knaves, that bring your handsome wives to seduceour young senators from their sobriety and wits. ' 'Are these therecompenses, ' replied _Brilliard_, 'you give the injured, and in lieuof restoring me my right, am I reproached with the most scandalousinfamy that can befall a man?' 'Well, sir, ' replied _Sebastian_, 'isthis all you have to charge this gentleman with?' At which he bowed, and was silent----and _Sebastian_ continued--'If your wife, sir, havea mind to my nephew, or he to her, it should have been your care tohave forbid it, or prevented it, by keeping her under lock and key, ifno other way to be secured; and, sir, we do not sit here to relievefools and cuckolds; if your lady will be civil to my nephew, what isthat to us: let her speak for herself: what say you, madam?'--'I say, 'replied _Sylvia_, 'that this fellow is mad and raves, that he is myvassal, my servant, my slave; but, after this, unworthy of the meanestof these titles. ' This she spoke with a disdain that sufficientlyshewed the pride and anger of her soul----'La you, sir, ' replied_Sebastian_, 'you are discharged your lady's service; it is a plaincase she has more mind to the young Count than the husband, and wecannot compel people to be honest against their inclinations. ' Andcoming down from the seat where he sat, he embraced _Octavio_ ahundred times, and told the board, he was extremely glad they foundthe mighty plot, but a vagary of youth, and the spleen of a jealoushusband or lover, or whatsoever other malicious thing; and desired theangry man might be discharged, since he had so just a provocation asthe loss of a mistress. So all laughing at the jest, that had made sogreat a noise among the grave and wise, they freed them all: and_Sebastian_ advised his nephew, that the next cuckold he made, hewould make a friend of him first, that he might hear of no morecomplaints against him. But _Octavio_ very gravely replied; 'Sir, youhave infinitely mistaken the character of this lady, she is a personof too great quality for this raillery; at more leisure you shall haveher story. ' While he was speaking this, and their discharges weremaking, _Sylvia_ confounded with shame, indignation, and anger, goesout, and taking _Octavio_'s coach that stood at the gate, wentdirectly to his house; for she resolved to go no more where_Brilliard_ was. After this, _Sebastian_ fell seriously to goodadvice, and earnestly besought his darling to leave off those wildextravagancies that had so long made so great a discourse all theprovince over, where nothing but his splendid amours, treats, balls, and magnificences of love, was the business of the town, and that hehad forborne to tell him of it, and had hitherto justified hisactions, though they had not deserved it; and he doubted this was thelady to whom for these six or eight months he heard he had so entirelydedicated himself. He desires him to quit this lady, or if he willpursue his love, to do it discreetly, to love some unmarried woman, and not injure his neighbours; to all which he blushed and bowed, andsilently seemed to thank him for his grave counsel. And _Brilliard_having received his discharge, and advice how he provoked thedispleasure of the _States_ any more, by accusing of great persons, hewas ordered to ask _Octavio_'s pardon; but, in lieu of that, he cameup to him, and challenged him to fight him for the injustice he haddone him, in taking from him his wife; for he was sure he was undonein her favour, and that thought made him mad enough to put himself onthis second extravagancy: however, this was not so silently managedbut _Sebastian_ perceived it, and was so enraged at the young fellowfor his second insolence, that he was again confined, and sent back toprison, where he swore he should suffer the utmost of the law; and theCouncil breaking up, every one departed to his own home. But never wasman ravished with excess of joy as _Octavio_ was, to find _Sylvia_meet him with extended arms on the stair-case, whom he did not imagineto have found there, nor knew he how he stood in the heart of thecharmer of his own, since the affront she had received in the courtfrom those that however did not know her; for they did not imaginethis was that lady, sister to _Philander_, of whose beauty they hadheard so much, and her face being turned from the light, the oldgentleman did not so much consider or see it. _Sylvia_ came into hishouse the back way, through the stables and garden, and had the goodfortune to be seen by none of his family but the coachman, who broughther home, whom she conjured not to speak of it to the rest of hisservants: and unseen of any body she got into his apartment, for oftenshe had been there at treats and balls with _Philander_. She wasalone; for _Antonet_ stayed to see what became of her false lover, and, after he was seized again, retired to her lodging the mostdisconsolate woman in the world, for having lost her hopes of_Brilliard_, to whom she had engaged all that honour she had. But whenshe missed her lady there, she accused herself with all the falsehoodin the world, and fell to repent her treachery. She sends the page toinquire at _Ocatvio_'s house, but no body there could give him anyintelligence; so that the poor amorous youth returning without hope, endured all the pain of a hopeless lover; for _Octavio_ had anewcharmed his coachman: and calling up an ancient woman who was hishouse-keeper, who had been his nurse, he acquainted her with the shorthistory of his passion for _Sylvia_, and ordered her to give herattendance on the treasure of his life; he bid her prepare all thingsas magnificent as she could in that apartment he designed her, whichwas very rich and gay, and towards a fine garden. The hangings andbeds all glorious, and fitter for a monarch than a subject; the finestpictures the world afforded, flowers in-laid with silver and ivory, gilded roofs, carved wainscot, tables of plate, with all the rest ofthe movables in the chambers of the same, all of great value, and allwas perfumed like an altar, or the marriage bed of some young king. Here _Sylvia_ was designed to lodge, and hither _Octavio_ conductedher; and setting her on a couch while the supper was getting ready, hesits himself down by her, and his heart being ready to burst withgrief, at the thought of the claim which was laid to her by_Brilliard_, he silently views her, while tears were ready to breakfrom his fixed eyes, and sighs stopped what he would fain have spoke;while she (wholly confounded with shame, guilt, and disappointment, for she could not imagine that _Brilliard_ could have had theimpudence to have claimed her for a wife) fixed her fair eyes to theearth, and durst not behold the languishing _Octavio_. They remainedthus a long time silent, she not daring to defend herself from acrime, of which she knew too well she was guilty, nor he daring to askher a question to which the answer might prove so fatal; he fears toknow what he dies to be satisfied in, and she fears to discover toolate a secret, which was the only one she had concealed from him. _Octavio_ runs over in his mind a thousand thoughts that perplex him, of the probability of her being married; he considers how often he hadfound her with that happy young man, who more freely entertained herthan servants use to do. He now considers how he had seen them once ona bed together, when _Sylvia_ was in the disorder of a yieldingmistress, and _Brilliard_ of a ravished lover; he considers how he hasfound them alone at cards and dice, and often entertaining her withfreedoms of a husband, and how he wholly managed her affairs, commanded her servants like their proper master, and was in fullauthority of all. These, and a thousand more circumstances, confirm_Octavio_ in all his fears: a thousand times she is about to speak, but either fear to lose _Octavio_ by clear confession, or to runherself into farther error by denying the matter of fact, stops herwords, and she only blushes and sighs at what she dares not tell; andif by chance their speaking eyes meet, they would both decline themhastily again, as afraid to find there what their language could notconfess. Sometimes he would press her hand and sigh. --'Ah, _Sylvia_, you have undone my quiet'; to which she would return no answer, butsigh, and now rising from the couch, she walked about the chamber assad and silent as death, attending when he should have advanced inspeaking to her, though she dreads the voice she wishes to hear, andhe waits for her reply, though the mouth that he adores should deliverpoison and daggers to his heart. While thus they remained in the mostsilent and sad entertainment (that ever was between lovers that had somuch to say) the page, which _Octavio_ only trusts to wait, broughthim this letter. 

BRILLIARD _to_ OCTAVIO. 

_My Lord_, I am too sensible of my many high offences to your lordship, and haveas much penitence for my sin committed towards you as it is possibleto conceive; but when I implore a pardon from a lover, who by his ownpassion may guess at the violent effects of my despairing flame, I amyet so vain to hope it. _Antonet_ gave me the intelligence of yourdesign, and raised me up to a madness that hurried me to thatbarbarity against your unspotted honour. I own the baseness of thefact, but lovers are not, my lord, always guided by rules of justiceand reason; or, if I had, I should have killed the fair adulteressthat drew you to your undoing, and who merits more your hate than yourregard; and who having first violated her marriage-vow to me with_Philander_, would sacrifice us both to you, and at the same timebetray you to a marriage that cannot but prove fatal to you, as it ismost unlawful in her; so that, my lord, if I have injured you, I haveat the same time saved you from a sin and ruin, and humbly implorethat you will suffer the good I have rendered you in the last, toatone for the ill I did you in the first. If I have accused you of adesign against the State, it was to save you from that of the toosubtle and too charming _Sylvia_, which none but myself could havesnatched you from. It is true, I might have acted something moreworthy of my birth and education; but, my lord, I knew the power of_Sylvia_; and if I should have sent you the knowledge of this, when Isent the warrant for the security of your person, the haughty creaturewould have prevailed above all my truths with the eloquence of love, and you had yielded and been betrayed worse by her, than by the mostungenerous measures I took to prevent it. Suffer this reason, my lord, to plead for me in that heart where _Sylvia_ reigns, and shews howpowerful she is every where. Pardon all the faults of a mostunfortunate man undone by love, and by your own, guess what hispassion would put him on, who aims or wishes at least for the entirepossession of _Sylvia_, though it was never absolutely hoped by themost unfortunate

BRILLIARD. 

At the beginning of this letter _Octavio_ hoped it contained theconfession of his fault in claiming _Sylvia_; he hoped he would haveowned it done in order to his service to his lord, or his love to_Sylvia_, or any thing but what it really was; but when he readon--and found that he yet confirmed his claim, he yielded to all thegrief that could sink a heart over-burdened with violent love; hefell down on the couch where he was sat, and only calling _Sylvia_with a dying groan, he held out his hand, in which the letterremained, and looked on her with eyes that languished with death, love, and despair; while she, who already feared from whom it came, received it with disdain, shame, and confusion: and _Octavio_recovering a little--cried in a faint voice--'See charming, cruelfair--see how much my soul adores you, when even this--cannotextinguish one spark of the flame you have kindled in my soul. ' Atthis she blushed, and bowed with a graceful modesty that was like tohave given the lie to all the accusations against her: she reads theletter, while he greedily fixes his eyes upon her face as she reads, observing with curious search every motion there, all killing andadorable. He saw her blushes sometimes rise, then sink again to theirproper fountain, her heart; there swell and rise, and beat against herbreast that had no other covering than a thin shirt, for all her bosomwas open, and betrayed the nimble motion of her heart. Her eyessometimes would sparkle with disdain, and glow upon the fataltell-tale lines, and sometimes languish with excess of grief: buthaving concluded the letter, she laid it on the table, and began againto traverse the room, her head declined, and her arms a-cross herbosom, _Octavio_ made too true an interpretation of this silence andcalm in _Sylvia_, and no longer doubted his fate. He fixes his eyeseternally upon her, while she considers what she shall say to thatafflicted lover; she considers _Philander_ lost, or if he everreturns, it is not to love; to that he was for ever gone; for too wellshe knew no arts, obligations, or industry, could retrieve a flying_Cupid_: she found, if even that could return, his whole fortune wasso exhausted he could not support her; and that she was of a nature sohaughty and impatient of injuries, that she could never forgive himthose affronts he had done her honour first, and now her love; sheresolves no law or force shall submit her to _Brilliard_; she findsthis fallacy she had put on _Octavio_, has ruined her credit in hisesteem, at least she justly fears it; so that believing herselfabandoned by all in a strange country, she fell to weeping her fate, and the tears wet the floor as she walked: at which sight so melting_Octavio_ starts from the couch, and catching her in his tremblingarms, he cried, 'Be false, be cruel, and deceitful; yet still I must, I am compelled to adore you----' This being spoken in so hearty andresolved a tone, from a man of whose heart she was so sure, and knewto be generous, gave her a little courage--and like sinking men shecatches at all that presents her any hope of escaping. She resolves bydiscovering the whole truth to save that last stake, his heart, thoughshe could pretend to no more; and taking the fainting lover by thehand, she leads him to the couch: 'Well, ' said she, '_Octavio_, youare too generous to be imposed on in any thing, and therefore I willtell you my heart without reserve as absolutely as to heaven itself, if I were interceding my last peace there. ' She begged a thousandpardons of him for having concealed any part of her story from him, but she could no longer be guilty of that crime, to a man for whom shehad so perfect a passion; and as she spoke she embraced him with anirresistible softness that wholly charmed him: she reconciles him withevery touch, and sighs on his bosom a thousand grateful vows andexcuses for her fault, while he weeps his love, and almost expires inher arms; she is not able to see his passion and his grief, and tellshim she will do all things for his repose. 'Ah, _Sylvia_' sighedhe, 'talk not of my repose, when you confess yourself wife to one andmistress to another, in either of which I have alas no part: ah, whatis reserved for the unfortunate _Octavio_, when two happy loversdivide the treasure of his soul? Yet tell me truth, because it willlook like love; shew me that excellent virtue so rarely found in allyour fickle sex. O! tell me truth, and let me know how much my heartcan bear before it break with love; and yet, perhaps, to hear theespeak to me, with that insinuating dear voice of thine, may save mefrom the terror of thy words; and though each make a wound, their veryaccents have a balm to heal! O quickly pour it then into my listeningsoul, and I will be silent as over-ravished lovers, whom joys havecharmed to tender sighs and pantings. ' At this, embracing her anew, helet fall a shower of tears upon her bosom, and sighing, cried--'Now Iattend thy story': she then began anew the repetition of the lovesbetween herself and _Philander_, which she slightly ran over, becausehe had already heard every circumstance of it, both from herself and_Philander_; till she arrived to that part of it where she left_Bellfont_, her father's house: 'Thus far, ' said she, 'you have had afaithful relation; and I was no sooner missed by my parents, but youmay imagine the diligent search that would be made, both by_Foscario_, whom I was to have married the next day, and my tenderparents; but all search, all _hue-and-cries_ were vain; at last, theyput me into the weekly _Gazette_, describing me to the very featuresof my face, my hair, my breast, my stature, youth, and beauty, omitting nothing that might render me apparent to all that should seeme, offering vast sums to any that should give intelligence of such alost maid of quality. _Philander_, who understood too well the natureof the common people, and that they would betray their very fathersfor such a proffered sum, durst trust me no longer to their mercy: hisaffairs were so involved with those of _Cesario_, he could not leave_Paris_; for they every moment expected the people should rise againsttheir king, and those glorious chiefs of the faction were obliged towait and watch the motions of the dirty crowd. Nor durst he trust mein any place from him; for he could not live a day without me'; (atthat thought she sighed, and then went on); 'so that I was obliged toremain obscurely lodged in _Paris_, where now I durst no longer trustmyself, though disguised in as many shapes as I was obliged to havelodgings. At last we were betrayed, and had only the short noticegiven us to yield, or secure ourselves from the hand of justice by thenext morning, when they designed to surprise us. To escape we foundalmost impossible, and very hazardous to attempt it; so that_Philander_, who was raving with fears, called myself and this younggentleman, _Brilliard_ (then Master of his Horse) and one that hadserved us faithfully through the whole course of our lives, tocouncil: many things were in vain debated, but at last this hard shiftwas found out of marrying me to _Brilliard_, for to _Philander_ it wasimpossible; so that no authority of a father could take me from thehusband. I was at first extremely unwilling, but when _Philander_ toldme it was to be only a mock-marriage, to secure me to himself, I wasreconciled to it, and more when I found the infinite submission of theyoung man, who vowed he would never look up to me with the eyes of alover or husband, but in obedience to his lord did it to preserve meentirely for him; nay farther, to secure my future fear, he confessedto me he was already married to a gentlewoman by whom he had twochildren. ' 'Oh!----tell me true, my _Sylvia_, was he married toanother!' cried out the overjoyed lover. 'Yes, on my life, ' replied_Sylvia_; 'for when it was proved in court that I was married to_Brilliard_ (as at last I was, and innocently bedded) this lady cameand brought her children to me, and falling at my feet, wept andimplored I would not own her husband, for only she had right to him;we all were forced to discover to her the truth of the matter, andthat he had only married me to secure me from the rage of my parents, that if he were her husband she was still as entirely possessed of himas ever, and that he had advanced her fortune in what he had done, forshe should have him restored with those advantages that should makeher life, and that of her children more comfortable; and _Philander_making both her and the children considerable presents, sent her awayvery well satisfied. After this, before people, we used him to athousand freedoms, but when alone, he retained his respect entire;however, this used him to something more familiarity than formerly, and he grew to be more a companion than a servant, as indeed wedesired he should, and of late have found him more presumptuous thanusual. And thus much more, I must confess, I have reason to believehim a most passionate lover, and have lately found he had designs uponme, as you well know. 

'Judge now, oh dear _Octavio_, how unfortunate I am; yet judge too, whether I ought to esteem this a marriage, or him a husband?' 'No, 'replied _Octavio_, more briskly than before, 'nor can he by the lawsof God or man pretend to such a blessing, and you may be divorced. 'Pleased with this thought, he soon assumed his native temper of joyand softness, and making a thousand new vows that he would perform allhe had sworn on his part, and imploring and pressing her to renewthose she had made to him, she obeys him; she makes a thousandgrateful returns, and they pass the evening the most happily that everlovers did. By this time supper was served up, noble and handsome, andafter supper, he led her to his closet, where he presented her withjewels and other rarities of great value, and omitted nothing thatmight oblige an avaricious designing woman, if _Sylvia_ had been such;nor any thing that might beget love and gratitude in the mostinsensible heart: and all he did, and all he gave, was with a peculiargrace, in which there lies as great an obligation as in the giftitself: the handsome way of giving being an art so rarely known, evento the most generous. In these happy and glorious moments of love, wherein the lover omitted nothing that could please, _Philander_ wasalmost forgotten; for it is natural for love to beget love, andinconstancy its likeness or disdain: and we must conclude _Sylvia_ amaid wholly insensible, if she had not been touched with tenderness, and even love itself, at all these extravagant marks of passion in_Octavio_; and it must be confessed she was of a nature soft and aptfor impression; she was, in a word, a woman. She had her vanities andher little foiblesses, and loved to see adorers at her feet, especially those in whom all things, all graces, charms of youth, witand fortune agreed to form for love and conquest: she naturally lovedpower and dominion, and it was her maxim, that never any woman wasdispleased to find she could beget desire. 

It was thus they lived with uninterrupted joys, no spies to pry upontheir actions, no false friends to censure their real pleasures, norivals to poison their true content, no parents to give bounds orgrave rules to the destruction of nobler lavish love; but all the daywas passed in new delights, and every day produced a thousandpleasures; and even the thoughts of revenge were no more remembered oneither side; it lessened in _Sylvia_'s heart as love advanced there, and her resentment against _Philander_ was lost in her growing passionfor _Octavio_: and sure if any woman had excuses for loving andinconstancy, the most wise and prudent must allow them now to_Sylvia_; and if she had reason for loving it was now, for what shepaid the most deserving of his sex, and whom she managed with that artof loving (if there be art in love) that she gained every minute uponhis heart, and he became more and more her slave, the more he found hewas beloved: in spite of all _Brilliard_'s pretension he would havemarried her, but durst not do it while he remained in _Holland_, because of the noise _Brilliard_'s claim had made, and he feared thedispleasure of his uncle; but waited for a more happy time, when hecould settle his affairs so as to remove her into _Flanders_, thoughhe could not tell how to accomplish that without ruining his interest:these thoughts alone took up his time whenever he was absent from_Sylvia_, and would often give him abundance of trouble; for he wasgiven over to his wish of possessing of _Sylvia_, and could not livewithout her; he loved too much, and thought and considered too little. These were his eternal entertainments when from the lovely object ofhis desire, which was as seldom as possible; for they were bothunwilling to part, though decency and rest required it, a thousandsoft things would hinder him, and make her willing to retain him, andthough they were to meet again next morning, they grudge themselvesthe parting hours, and the repose of nature. He longs and languishesfor the blessed moment that shall give him to the arms of theravishing _Sylvia_, and she finds but too much yielding on her part insome of those silent lone hours, when love was most prevailing, andfeeble mortals most apt to be overcome by that insinuating god; sothat though _Octavio_ could not ask what he sighed and died for, though for the safety of his life, for any favours; and though, on theother side, _Sylvia_ resolved she would not grant, no, though mutualvows had passed, though love within pleaded, and almost irresistiblebeauties and inducements without, though all the powers of love, ofsilence, night and opportunity, though on the very point a thousandtimes of yielding, she had resisted all: but oh! one night; let it notrise up in judgement against her, ye bashful modest maids, who neveryet tried any powerful minute; nor ye chaste wives, who give noopportunities; one night----they lost themselves in dalliance, forgothow very near they were to yielding, and with imperfect transportsfound themselves half dead with love, clasped in each other's arms, betrayed by soft degrees of joy to all they wished. It would be tooamorous to tell you more; to tell you all that night, that happy nightproduced; let it suffice that _Sylvia_ yielded all, and made _Octavio_happier than a god. At first, he found her weeping in his arms, ravingon what she had inconsiderately done, and with her soft reproacheschiding her ravished lover, who lay sighing by; unable to reply anyother way, he held her fast in those arms that trembled yet, with loveand new-past joy; he found a pleasure even in her railing, with atenderness that spoke more love than any other language love couldspeak. Betwixt his sighs he pleads his right of love, and theauthority of his solemn vows; he tells her that the marriage-ceremonywas but contrived to satisfy the ignorant, and to proclaim his titleto the crowd, but vows and contracts were the same to heaven: hespeaks----and she believes; and well she might; for all he spoke washonourable truth. He knew no guile, but uttered all his soul, and allthat soul was honest, just and brave; thus by degrees he brought herto a calm. 

In this soft rencounter, he had discovered a thousand new charms in_Sylvia_, and contrary to those men whose end of love is lust (whichextinguish together) _Octavio_ found increase of tenderness from everybliss she gave; and grew at last so fond--so doting on the still morecharming maid, that he neglected all his interest, his business in theState, and what he owed his uncle, and his friends, and became thecommon theme over all the United Provinces, for his wantonness andluxury, as they were pleased to call it, and living so contrary to thehumour of those more sordid and slovenly men of quality, which make upthe nobility of that parcel of the world. For while thus he livedretired, scarce visiting any one, or permitting any one to visit him, they charge him with a thousand crimes of having given himself over toeffeminacy; as indeed he grew too lazy in her arms; neglecting glory, arms, and power, for the more real joys of life; while she even rifleshim with extravagancy; and grows so bold and hardy, that regarding notthe humours of the stingy censorious nation, his interest, or her ownfame, she is seen every day in his coaches, going to take the air outof town; puts him upon balls, and vast expensive treats; devises newprojects and ways of diversion, till some of the more busyimpertinents of the town made a public complaint to his uncle, and therest of the _States_, urging he was a scandal to the reverend andhonourable society. On which it was decreed, that he should eitherlose that honour, or take up, and live more according to the gravityand authority of a senator: this incensed _Sebastian_, both againstthe _States_ and his nephew; for though he had often reproved andcounselled him; yet he scorned his darling should be schooled by hisequals in power. So that resolving either to discard him, or draw himfrom the love of this woman; he one morning goes to his nephew'shouse, and sending him up word by his page he would speak to him, hewas conducted to his chamber, where he found him in his night-gown: hebegan to upbraid him, first, with his want of respect and duty to him, and next, of his affairs, neglecting to give his attendance on thepublic: he tells him he is become a scandal to the commonwealth, andthat he lived a lewd life with another man's wife: he tells him he hasall her story, and she was not only a wife, but a scandalous mistresstoo to _Philander_. 'She boasts, ' says he, 'of honourable birth; butwhat is that, when her conduct is infamous? In short, sir, ' continuedhe, 'your life is obnoxious to the whole province: why what, sir----cannot honest men's daughters' (cried he more angrily) 'serveyour turn, but you must crack a Commandment? Why, this is flatadultery: a little fornication in a civil way might have been allowed, but this is stark naught. In fine, sir, quit me this woman, and quither presently; or, in the first place, I renounce thee, cast thee fromme as a stranger, and will leave thee to ruin, and the incensed_States_. A little pleasure--a little recreation, I can allow: a layerof love, and a layer of business--But to neglect the nation for awench, is flat treason against the State; and I wish there were a lawagainst all such unreasonable whore-masters--that are statesmen--forthe rest it is no great matter. Therefore, in a word, sir, leave meoff this mistress of yours, or we will secure her yet for a _French_spy, that comes to debauch our commonwealth's men----The _States_ cando it, sir, they can----' Hitherto _Octavio_ received all with a blushand bow, in sign of obedience; but when his uncle told him the_States_ would send away his mistress; no longer able to contain hisrage, he broke out into all the violence imaginable against them, andswore he would not now forgo _Sylvia_ to be monarch over all the nastyprovinces, and it was a greater glory to be a slave at her feet. 'Go, tell your _States_, ' cried he, --'they are a company of cynical fops, born to moil on in sordid business, who never were worthy tounderstand so great a happiness of life as that of nobler love. Tellthem, I scorn the dull gravity of those asses of the commonwealth, fitonly to bear the dirty load of State-affairs, and die old busy fools. 'The uncle, who little expected such a return from him who used to beall obedience, began more gently to persuade him with more solidreason, but could get no other answer from him, than that what hecommanded he should find it difficult to disobey; and so for that timethey parted. Some days after (he never coming so much as near theirCouncils) they sent for him to answer the contempt: he came, andreceived abundance of hard reproaches, and finding they were resolvedto degrade him, he presently rallied them in answer to all they said;nor could all the cautions of his friends persuade him to anysubmission, after receiving so rough and ill-bred a treatment as theygave him: and impatient to return to _Sylvia_, where all his joys werecentred, he was with much ado persuaded to stay and hear theresolution of the Council, which was to take from him those honours heheld amongst them; at which he cocked and smiled, and told them hereceived what he was much more proud of, than of those useless triflesthey called honours, and wishes they might treat all that served themat that ungrateful rate: for he that had received a hundred wounds, and lost a stream of blood for their security, shall, if he kiss theirwives against their wills, be banished like a coward: so hasting fromthe Council, he got into his coach and went to _Sylvia_. 

This incensed the old gentlemen to a high degree, and they carried itagainst the younger party (because more in number) that this _French_lady, who was for high-treason, as they called it, forced to fly_France_, should be no longer protected in _Holland_. And in order toher removal, or rather their revenge on _Octavio_, they sent out theirwarrant to apprehend her; and either to send her as an enemy to_France_, or force her to some other part of the world. For a day ortwo _Sebastian_'s interest prevailed for the stopping the warrant, believing he should be able to bring his nephew to some submission;which when he found in vain, he betook himself to his chamber, andrefused any visits or diversions: by this time, _Octavio_'s rallyingthe _States_ was become the jest of the town, and all the sparkslaughed at them as they passed, and lampooned them to damnable _Dutch_tunes, which so highly incensed them, that they sent immediately, andserved the warrant on _Sylvia_, whom they surprised in _Octavio_'scoach as she was coming from taking the air. You may imagine what anagony of trouble and grief our generous and surprised lover was in: itwas in vain to make resistance, and he who before would not havesubmitted to have saved his life, to the _States_, now for thepreservation of one moment's content to _Sylvia_, was ready to go andfall at their feet, kiss their shoes, and implore their pity. He firstaccompanies her to the house of the messenger, where he only ispermitted to behold her with eyes of dying love, and unable to say anything to her, left her with such gifts, and charge to the messenger'scare, as might oblige him to treat her well; while _Sylvia_ lesssurprised, bid him, at going from her, not to afflict himself for anything she suffered; she found it was the malice of the peevish oldmagistrates, and that the most they could do to her, was to send herfrom him. This last she spoke with a sigh, that pierced his heart moresensibly than ever any thing yet had done; and he only replied (with asigh) 'No, _Sylvia_, no rigid power on earth shall ever be able todeprive you of my eternal adoration, or to separate me one moment from_Sylvia_, after she is compelled to leave this ungrateful place; andwhose departure I will hasten all that I can, since the land is notworthy of so great a blessing. ' So leaving her for a little space, hehasted to his uncle, whom he found very much discontented: he throwshimself at his feet, and assails him with all the moving eloquence ofsighs and tears; in vain was all, in vain alas he pleads. From this heflies to rage--and says all a distracted lover could pour forth toease a tortured heart; what divinity did he not provoke? Whollyregardless even of heaven and man, he made a public confession of hispassion, denied her being married to _Brilliard_, and weeps as heprotests her innocence: he kneels again, implores and begs anew, andmade the movingest moan that ever touched a heart, but could receiveno other return but threats and frowns: the old gentleman had neverbeen in love since he was born, no not enough to marry, but bore anunaccountable hate to the whole sex, and therefore was pitiless to allhe could say on the score of love; though he endeavours to soften himby a thousand things more dear to him. 'For my sake, sir, ' said he, 'if ever my lost plea were grateful to you, when all your joy was inthe young _Octavio_; release, release the charming _Sylvia_; regardher tender youth, her blooming beauty, her timorous helpless sex, hernoble quality, and save her from rude assaults of power----Oh save thelovely maid!' Thus he uttered with interrupting sighs and tears, whichfell upon the floor as he pursued the obdurate on his knees: at lastpity touched his heart, and he said--'Spare, sir, the character ofyour enchanting _Circe_; for I have heard too much of her, and whatmischief she has bred in _France_, abandoning her honour, betraying avirtuous sister, defaming her noble parents, and ruining anillustrious young nobleman, who was both her brother and her lover. This, sir, in short, is the character of your beauteous innocent. ''Alas, sir, ' replied _Octavio_, 'you never saw this maid; or if youhad, you would not be so cruel. ' 'Go to, sir, ' replied the oldgentleman, 'I am not so soon softened at the sight of beauty. ' 'But dobut see her, sir, ' replied _Octavio_, 'and then perhaps you will becharmed like me----' 'You are a fop, sir, ' replied _Sebastian_, 'andif you would have me allow any favour to your enchanting lady, youmust promise me first to abandon her, and marry the widow of Monsieur---- who is vastly rich, and whom I have so often recommended to you;she loves you too, and though she be not fair, she has the bestfortune of any lady in the _Netherlands_. On these terms, sir, I amfor a reconciliation with you, and will immediately go and deliver thefair prisoner; and she shall have her liberty to go or stay, or dowhat she please--and now, sir, you know my will and pleasure'--_Octavio_ found it in vain to pursue him any farther with hispetitions; only replied, it was wondrous hard and cruel. To whichthe old one replied; 'It is what must be done; I have resolved it, ormy estate, in value above two hundred thousand pounds, shall bedisposed of to your sister, the Countess of _Clarinau_:' and this heended with an execration on himself if he did not do; and he was a manthat always was just to his word. 

Much more to this ungrateful effect he spoke, and _Octavio_ hadrecourse to all the dissimulation his generous soul was capable of;and it was the first base thing, and sure the last that ever he wasguilty of. He promises his uncle to obey all his commands andinjunctions, since he would have it so; and only begged he might bepermitted but one visit, to take his last leave of her. This was atfirst refused, but at last, provided he might hear what he said toher, he would suffer him to go: 'For, ' said the crafty old man, (whoknew too well the cunning of youth, ) 'I will have no tricks put uponme; I will not be outwitted by a young knave:' this was the worst partof all; he knew, if he alone could speak with her, they might havecontrived, by handsome agreeing flattery, to have accomplished theirdesign; which was, first, by the authority of the old gentleman tohave freed her from confinement; and next, to have settled his affairsin the best posture he could, and without valuing his uncle's fortune, his own being greater, he resolved to go with her into _Flanders_ or_Italy_; but his going with him to visit her would prevent whateverthey might resolve: but since the liberty of _Sylvia_ was first to beconsidered, he resolves, since it must be so and leaves the rest totime and his good fortune. 'Well then, sir, ' said _Octavio_, 'sinceyou have resolved yourself, to be a witness of those melancholythings, I shall possibly say to her, let us haste to end the greataffair'--'Hang it, ' cried _Sebastian_, 'if I go I shall abuse theyoung hussy, or commit some indecency that will not be suitable togood manners----' 'I hope you will, sir'----replied _Octavio_----'Whipthem, whip them, ' replied the uncle, 'I hate the young cozeningbaggages, that wander about the world undoing young and extravagantcoxcombs; gots so they are naught, stark naught----Be sure dispatch assoon as you can; and--do you hear--let's have no whining. ' _Octavio_, overjoyed he should have her released to-night, promised lavishly allhe was urged to: and his coach being at the gate, they both wentimmediately to the house of the messenger; all the way the oldgentleman did nothing but rail against the vices of the age, and thesins of villainous youth; the snares of beauty, and the danger ofwitty women; and of how ill consequences these were to a commonwealth. He said, if he were to make laws he would confine all young women tomonasteries, where they should never see man till forty, and then comeout and marry for generation-sake, no more: for his part, he had neverseen the beauty that yet could inspire him with that silly thingcalled love; and wondered what the devil ailed all the young fellowsof this age, that they talked of nothing else. At this rate theydiscoursed till they arrived at the prison, and calling for themessenger, he conducted them both to the chamber of the fair prisoner, who was laid on a couch, near which stood a table with two candles, which gave a great light to that part of the room, and made _Sylvia_appear more fair than ever, if possible. She had not that day beendressed but in a rich night-gown, and cornets of the most advantageousfashion. At his approach she blushed (with a secret joy, which neverhad possessed her soul for him before) and spread a thousand beautiesround her fair face. She was leaping with a transported pleasure tohis arms, when she perceived an old grave person follow him into theroom; at which she reassumed a strangeness, a melancholy languishment, which charmed no less than her gaiety. She approaches them with amodest grace in her beautiful eyes; and by the reception _Octavio_gave her, she found that reverend person was his uncle, or at leastsomebody of authority; and therefore assuming a gravity unusual, shereceived them with all the ceremony due to their quality: and first, she addressed herself to the old gentleman, who stood gazing at her, without motion; at which she was a little out of countenance. When_Octavio_ perceiving it, approached his uncle and cried, 'Sir, this isthe lady----' _Sebastian_, starting as from a dream, cried--'Pardonme, madam, I am a fellow whom age hath rendered less ceremonious thanyouth: I have never yet been so happy as to have been used to a fairlady. Women never took up one minute of my more precious time, but Ihave been a satyr upon the whole sex; and, if my treatment of you berougher than your birth and beauty merits, I beseech you----faircreature, pardon it, since I come in order to do you service. ' 'Sir, 'replied _Sylvia_, (blushing with anger at the presence of a man whohad contributed to the having brought her to that place) 'I cannot butwonder at this sudden change of goodness, in a person to whom I amindebted for part of my misfortune, and which I shall no longer esteemas such, since it has occasioned me a happiness, and an honour, towhich I could no other way have arrived. ' This last she spoke with herusual insinuating charms; the little affectation of the voicesweetened to all the tenderness it was possible to put on, and so easyand natural to _Sylvia_: and if before the old gentleman were seizedwith some unusual pleasure, which before he never felt about his icyand insensible heart, and which now began to thaw at the fire of hereyes----l say, if before he were surprised with looking, what was hewhen she spoke--with a voice so soft, and an air so bewitching? He wasall eyes and ears, and had use of no other sense but what informedthose. He gazes upon her, as if he waited and listened what she wouldfarther say, and she stood waiting for his reply, till ashamed, sheturned her eyes into her bosom, and knew not how to proceed. _Octavio_views both by turns, and knows not how to begin the discourse again, it being his uncle's cue to speak: but finding him altogether mute--hesteps to him, and gently pulled him by the sleeve--but finds no motionin him; he speaks to him, but in vain; for he could hear nothing but_Sylvia_'s charming voice, nor saw nothing but her lovely face, norattended any thing but when she would speak again, and look that way. At this _Octavio_ smiled, and taking his adorable by the hand, he ledher nearer her admiring adversary; whom she approached with modestyand sweetness in her eyes, that the old fellow, having never beforebeheld the like vision, was wholly vanquished, and his old heart burntin the socket, which being his last blaze made the greater fire. 'Finelady, ' cried he--'or rather fine angel, how is it I shall expiate fora barbarity that nothing could be guilty of but the brute, who had notlearned humanity from your eyes: what atonement can I make for my sin;and how shall I be punished?' 'Sir, ' replied _Sylvia_, 'if I can merityour esteem and assistance, to deliver me from this cruel confinement, I shall think of what is past as a joy, since it renders me worthy ofyour pity and compassion. ' 'To answer you, madam, were to hold youunder this unworthy roof too long; therefore let me convince you of myservice, by leading you to a place more fit for so fair a person. ' Andcalling for the messenger, he asked him if he would take his bail forhis fair prisoner? Who replied, 'Your lordship may command allthings:' so throwing him a little purse, about thirty pounds in gold, he bid him drink the lady's health; and without more ceremony or talk, led her to the coach; and never so much as asking her whether shewould go, insensibly carries her, where he had a mind to have her, tohis own house. This was a little affliction to _Octavio_, whonevertheless durst not say any thing to his uncle, nor so much as askhim the reason why: but being arrived all thither, he conducts her toa very fair apartment, and bid her there command that world he couldcommand for her: he gave her there a very magnificent supper, and allthree supped together. _Octavio_ could not imagine that his uncle, whowas a single man, and a grave senator, one famed for a womanhater, agreat railer at the vices of young men, should keep a fair, young, single woman in his house: but it growing late, and no preparation forher departing, she took the courage to say--'Sir, I am so extremelyobliged to you, and have received so great a favour from you, that Icannot flatter myself it is for any virtue in me, or merely out ofcompassion to my sex, that you have done this; but for some body'ssake, to whom I am more engaged than I am aware of; and when youpassed your parole for my liberty, I am not so vain to think it wasfor my sake; therefore pray inform me, sir, how I can pay this debt, and to whom; and who it is you require should be bound for me, to saveyou harmless. ' 'Madam, ' cried _Sebastian_, 'though there need nogreater security than your own innocence, yet lest that innocenceshould not be sufficient to guard you from the outrage of a peopleapproaching to savages, I beg, for your own security, not mine, thatyou will make this house your sanctuary; my power can save you fromimpending harms; and all that I call mine, you shall command. ' At thisshe blushing bowed, but durst not make reply to contradict him: sheknew, at least, that there she was safe and well, from fear of thetyranny of the rest, or any other apprehension. It is true, she found, by the shyness of _Octavio_ towards her before his uncle, that she wasto manage her amour with him by stealth, till they could contrivematters more to their advantage: she therefore finding she should wantnothing, but as much of _Octavio_'s conversation as she desired, shebegged he would give her leave to write a note to her page, who was afaithful, sober youth, to bring her jewels and what things she had ofvalue to her, which he did, and received those and her servantstogether; but _Antonet_ had like to have lost her place, but that_Octavio_ pleaded for her, and she herself confessing it was love tothe false _Brilliard_ that made her do that foolish thing (in whichshe vowed she thought no harm, though it was like to have cost her sodear) she was again received into favour: so that for some days_Sylvia_ found herself very much at her ease with the old gentleman, and had no want of any thing but _Octavio_'s company: but she had thepleasure to find, by his eyes and sighs, he wanted hers more: he diedevery day, and his fair face faded like falling roses: still she wasgay; for if she had it not about her, she assumed it to keep him inheart: she was not displeased to see the old man on fire too, andfancied some diversion from the intrigue. But he concealed his passionall he could, both to hide it from his nephew, and because he knew notwhat he ailed. A strange change he found, a wondrous disorder innature, but could not give a name to it, nor sigh aloud for fear heshould be heard, and lose his reputation; especially for this woman, on whom he had railed so lavishly. One day therefore, after a night oftorment, very incommode to his age, he takes _Octavio_ into the gardenalone, telling him he had a great secret to impart to him. _Octavio_guessing what it might be, put his heart in as good order as he couldto receive it. He at least knew the worst was but for him at last tosteal _Sylvia_ from him, if he should be weak enough to dote on theyoung charmer, and therefore resolved to hear with patience. But if hewere prepared to attend, the other was not prepared to begin, and soboth walked many silent turns about the garden. _Sebastian_ had a mindto ask a thousand questions of his nephew, who he found, maugre allhis vows of deserting _Sylvia_, had no power of doing it: he had amind to urge him to marry the widow, but durst not now press it, though he used to do so, lest he should take it for jealousy in him;nor durst he now forbid him seeing her, lest he should betray thesecrets of his soul: he began every moment to love him less, as heloved _Sylvia_ more, and beholds him as an enemy to his repose, nayhis very life. At last the old man (who thought if he brought hisnephew forth under pretence of a secret, and said nothing to him, itwould have looked ill) began to speak. '_Octavto_, ' said he, 'I havehitherto found you so just in all you have said, that it were a sin todoubt you in what relates to _Sylvia_. You have told me she is noblyborn; and you have with infinite imprecations convinced me she isvirtuous; and lastly, you have sworn she was not married'----At thishe sighed and paused, and left _Octavio_ trembling with fear of theresult: a thousand times he was like to have denied all, but durst notdefame the most sacred idol of his soul: sometimes he thought hisuncle would be generous, and think it fit to give him _Sylvia_; butthat thought was too seraphic to remain a moment in his heart. 'Sir, 'replied _Octavio_, 'I own I said so of _Sylvia_, and hope no actionshe has committed since she had a protection under your roof hascontradicted any thing I said. 'No, ' said _Sebastian_, sighing--andpausing, as loath to speak more: 'Sir, ' said _Octavio_, 'I supposethis is not the secret you had to impart to me, for which you separateme to this lonely walk; fear not to trust me with it, whatever it be;for I am so entirely your own, that I will grant, submit, prostratemyself, and give up all my will, power, and faculties to your interestor designs. ' This encouraged the old lover, who replied--'Tell me onetruth, _Octavio_, which I require of you, and I will desire nomore----have not you had the possession of this fair maid? Youapprehend me. ' Now it was that he feared what design the amorous oldgentleman had in his head and heart; and was at a loss what to say, whether to give him some jealousy that he had known and possessed her, and so prevent his designs on her; or by saying he had not, to leaveher defenceless to his love. But on second thoughts, he could notresolve to say any thing to the disadvantage of _Sylvia_, though tosave his own life; and therefore assured his uncle, he never durstassume the boldness to ask so rude a question of a woman of quality:and much more he spoke to that purpose to convince him: that it istrue, he would have married her, if he could have gained his consent;maugre all the scandal that the malicious world had thrown upon her. But since he was positive in his command for the widow, he would bendhis mind to obedience. 'In that, ' replied _Sebastian_, 'you are wise, and I am glad all your youthful fires are blown over; and having oncefixed you in the world as I design, I have resolved on an affair----'At this again he paused----'I am, ' says he, 'in love--I think it islove, or that which you call so: I cannot eat, nor sleep, nor evenpray, but this fair stranger interposes; or, if by chance I slumber, all my dreams are of her, I see her, I touch her, I embrace her, andfind a pleasure, even then, that all my waking thoughts could neverprocure me. If I go to the state-house, I mind nothing there, myheart's at home with the young gentlewoman; or the change, orwheresoever I go, my restless thoughts present her still before me:and prithee tell me, is not this love, _Octavio_? 'It may arrive tolove, ' replied the blushing youth, 'if you would fondly give way toit: but you are wise and grave, should hate all women, sir, till aboutforty, and then for generation only: you are above the follies of vainyouth. And let me tell you, sir, without offending, already you arecharged with a thousand little vanities, unsuitable to your years, andthe character you have had, and the figure you have made in the world. I heard a lampoon on you the other day, --(Pardon my freedom, sir, ) forkeeping a beauty in your house, who they are pleased to say was mymistress before. ' And pulling out a lampoon, which his page had beforegiven him, he gave it his uncle. But instead of making him resolve toquit _Sylvia_, it only served to incense him against _Octavio_; herailed at all wits, and swore there was not a more dangerous enemy toa civil, sober commonwealth: that a poet was to be banished as a spy, or hanged as a traitor: that it ought to be as much against the law tolet them live, as to shoot with white powder; and that to writelampoons should be put into the statute against stabbing. And could hefind the rogue that had the wit to write that, he would make him awarning to all the race of that damnable vermin; what! to abuse amagistrate, one of the _States_, a very monarch of the commonwealth!--It was abominable, and not to be borne, --and looking on his nephew--and considering his face a while, he cried--'I fancy, sir, by yourphysiognomy, that you yourself have a hand in this libel:' at whichOctavio blushed, which he taking for guilt, flew out into terribleanger against him, not suffering him to speak for himself, or clearhis innocence. And as he was going in this rage from him, havingforbidden him ever to set his foot within his doors, he told him, --'If, ' said he, 'the scandalous town, from your instructions, havesuch thoughts of me, I will convince it by marrying this fairstranger the first thing I do: I cannot doubt but to find a welcome, since she is a banished woman, without friends or protection; andespecially, when she shall see how civilly you have handled herhere, in your doggerel ballad: I will teach you to be a wit, sir; andso your humble servant. '--And leaving him almost wild with hisfears, he went directly to _Sylvia_, where he told her his nephew wasgoing to make up the match between himself and madam the widow of ----and that he had made a scandalous lampoon on her fair self. He forgotnothing that might make her hate the amiable young nobleman, whom sheknew too well to believe that any thing of this was other than theeffects of his own growing passion for her. For though she saw_Octavio_ every day, in this time she had remained at his uncle's, yetthe old lover so watched their very looks, that it was impossiblealmost to tell one another's heart by the glance there. But _Octavio_had once in this time conveyed a letter to her, which havingopportunity to do, he put it into her comb-box, when he was with hisuncle one day in her dressing-room; for she durst not trust her page, and less _Antonet_, who had before betrayed them: and having for_Sylvia_'s release so solemnly sworn to his uncle, (to which vows hetook religious care to keep him, ) he had so perfect an awe upon hisspirits from every look and command of his uncle's, he took infiniteheed how he gave him any umbrage by any action of his; and the rather, because he hoped when time should serve, to bring about his businessof stealing _Sylvia_ from him; for she was kept and guarded like amighty heiress; so that by this prudent management on both sides, theyheightened the growing love in every heart. In that billet, which hedropped in her comb-box, he did not only make ten thousand vows ofeternal passion and faith, and beg the same assurance of her again;but told her he was secured (so well he thought of her) from fears ofhis uncle's addresses to her, and begged she would not let themperplex her, but rather serve her for her diversion; that she shouldfrom time to time write him all he said to her, and how he treated herwhen alone; and that since the old lover was so watchful, she shouldnot trust her letters with any body; but as she walked into thegarden, she should in passing through the hall, put her letter in atthe broken glass of an old sedan that stood there, and had stood forseveral years; and that his own page, whom he could trust, should, when he came with him to his uncle's, take it from thence. Thus everyday they writ, and received the dearest returns in the world; whereall the satisfaction that vows oft repeated could give, was renderedeach other; with an account from _Sylvia_ that was very pleasant, ofall the passion of the doting old _Sebastian_, the presents he madeher, the fantastic youth he would assume, and unusual manner of hislove, which was a great diversion to both; and this difficulty ofspeaking to _Sylvia_, and entertaining her with love, though it hadits pains, had its infinite pleasure too; it increased their love onboth sides, and all their wishes. But now by this last banishment fromthe house where she was, to lose that only pleasure of beholding theadorable maid, gave him all the pains, without the hope of onepleasure; and he began to fear he should have a world of difficulty tosecure the dear object of his continual thoughts: he found no way tosend to her, and dreads all his malicious uncle and rival may say tohis disadvantage: he dreads even that infinite tenderness and esteemhe had for the good old man, who had been so fond a parent to him;lest even that should make him unwilling to use that extremity againsthim in regaining _Sylvia_, which he could use to any other man. Oh, how he curses the fatal hour that ever he implored his aid for herrelease; and having overcome all difficulties, even that of his fearsof _Philander_, (from whom they had received no letter in two months)and that of _Sylvia's_ disdain, and had established himself in hersoul and her arms; he should, by employing his uncle's authority for_Sylvia's_ service, be so unfortunate to involve them into new dangersand difficulties, of which he could foresee no other end, than thatwhich must be fatal to some of them. But he believed half his torturewould be eased, could he but write to _Sylvia_, for see her he couldnot hope: he bethought himself of a way at last. 

His uncle had belonging to his house the most fine garden of any inthat province, where those things are not much esteemed; in which theold gentleman took wonderful delight, and kept a gardener and hisfamily in a little house at the farther end of the garden, on purposeto look to it and dress it. This man had a very great veneration for_Octavio_, whom he called his young lord. Sure of the fidelity of thisgardener, when it was dark enough to conceal him, he wrapped himselfin his cloak, and got him thither by a back way, where with presents, he soon won those to his interest, who would before have beencommanded by him in any service. He had a little clean room, and somelittle _French_ novels which he brought; and there he was as wellconcealed as if he had been in the _Indies_; he left word at home, that he was gone out of the town. He knew well enough that _Sylvia_'s, lodgings looked that way; and when it was dark enough, he walked underher window, till he saw a candle lighted in _Sylvia_'s bed-chamber, which was as great a joy to him as the star that guides the traveller, or wandering seaman, or the lamp at _Sestos_, that guided the ravishedlover over the _Hellespont_. And by that time he could imagine all inbed, he made a little noise with a key on the pummel of his sword; butwhether _Sylvia_ heard it or not, I cannot tell, but she anon came tothe window, and putting up the sash, leaned on her arms and lookedinto the garden. Oh! Who but he himself that loved so well as_Octavio_, can express the transports he was in, at the sight? Which, more from the sight within than that without, he saw was the lovely_Sylvia_; whom calling softly by her name, answered him, as if sheknew the welcome voice, and cried--'Who is there, _Octavio_? She wassoon answered you may imagine. And they began the most endearingconversation that ever love could dictate. He complains on his fatethat sets them at that distance, and she pities him. He makes athousand doubts, and she undeceives them all. He fears, and sheconvinces his error, and is impatient at his suspicions. She will notendure him to question a heart that has given him so many proofs ofits tenderness and gratitude; she tells him her own wishes, how softand fervent they are; and assures him, he is extremely obliged toher----'Since for you--my charming friend, ' said she to _Octavio_, 'Ihave refused this night to marry your uncle; have a care, ' said she, smiling, 'how you treat me, lest I revenge myself on you; become youraunt, and bring heirs to the estate you have a right to: the writingsof all which I have now in my chamber, and which were but just nowlaid at my feet, and which I cannot yet get him to receive back. Andto oblige me to a compliance, has told me how you have deceived me, bygiving yourself to another, and exposing me in lampoons. '--To this_Octavio_ would have replied, but she assured him she needed noargument to convince her of the falsehood of all. He sighs, and toldher, all she said, though dear and charming, was not sufficient toease his heart; for he foresaw a world of hazard to get her fromthence, and mischiefs if she remained; insomuch that he caused thetears to flow from the fair eyes of _Sylvia_, with her reflections onher rigid fortune. And she cried, 'Oh, my _Octavio_! What strange fateor stars ruled my birth, that I should be born to the ruin of what Ilove, or those that love me!' At this rate they passed the night, sometimes more soft, sometimes encouraging one another; but the lastresult was to contrive the means of escaping. He fancied she mighteasily do it by the garden from the window: but that he was not surehe could trust the gardener so far, who in all things would serve him, in which his lord and master was not injured; and he, amongst the restof the servants, had orders not to suffer _Sylvia_ out of the garden, for which reason he kept a guard on that back-door. Some way must befound out which yet was not, and was left to time. He told her whencehe was, and that he would not stir from thence, till he was secured ofher flight: and day coming on, though loath, yet for fear of eyes andears that might spy upon them, he retired to his little lodging, and_Sylvia_ to bed; after giving and receiving a thousand vows andfarewells. The next night he came to the same place, but instead ofentertaining her--he only saw her softly put up the sash a little, andthrow something white out of the window and retire. He was wonderingat the meaning, but taking up what was thrown down, he found and smeltit was _Sylvia_'s handkerchief, in which was tied up a billet: he wentto his little lodging, and read it. 

SYLVIA _to_ OCTAVIO. 

Go from my window, my adorable friend, and be not afflicted that I donot entertain you as I had the joy to do last night; for both ourvoices were heard by some one that lodges below; and though your unclecould not tell me any part of our conversation, yet he heard I talkedto some body: I have persuaded him the fellow dreamed who gave himthis intelligence, and he is almost satisfied he did so; however, hazard not thy dear-self any more so, but let me lose for a while thegreatest happiness this earth can afford me, (in the circumstances ofour fortunes) rather than expose what is dearer to me than life orhonour: pity the fate I was born to, and expect all things from

_Your_ SYLVIA. 

_I will wait at the window for your answer, and let you down aribband, by which I will draw it up: but as you love me do not speak. _

He had no sooner read this, but he went to write an answer, which wasthis. 

OCTAVIO _to_ SYLVIA. 

Complain not, thou goddess of my vows, on the fate thou wert born toprocure to all mankind; but thank heaven for having received tenthousand charms that can recompense all the injuries you sounwillingly do us: and who would not implore his ruin from all theangry powers, if in return they would give him so glorious a reward?Who would not be undone to all the trifling honours of the mistakenworld, to find himself, in lieu of all, possessed of the ravishing_Sylvia_? But oh! Where is that presumptuous man, that can at theprice of all lay claim to so vast a blessing? Alas, my _Sylvia_, evenwhile I dare call you mine, I am not that hoping slave; no, not afterall the valued dear things you have said and vowed to me last night inthe garden, welcome to my soul as life after a sentence of death, orheaven after life is ended. But, oh _Sylvia_! all this, even all youuttered from your dear mouth is not sufficient to support me: alas, Idie for _Sylvia_! I am not able to bear the cruel absence longer, therefore without delay assist me to contrive your escape, or I shalldie, and leave you to the ravage of his love who holds thee from me;the very thoughts of that is worse than death. I die, alas, I die, foran entire possession of thee: oh let me grasp my treasure, let meengross it all, here in my longing arms. I can no longer languish atthis distance from my cruel joy, my life, my soul! But oh I rave, andwhile I should be speaking a thousand useful things, I am telling youmy pain, a pain that you may guess; and confounding myself betweenthose and their remedies, am able to fix on nothing. Help me to think, oh my dear charming creature, help me to think how I shall bear theeoff! Take your own measures, flatter him with love, soothe him tofaith and confidence, and then--oh pardon me, if there be baseness inthe action--then--cozen him--deceive him--any thing--for he deservesit all, that thinks that lovely body was formed for his embraces, whomage has rendered fitter for a grave. Form any plots, use everystratagem to save the life of

_Your_ OCTAVIO. 

 * * * * *

He wrote this in haste and disorder, as you may plainly see by thestyle, and went to the window with it, where he found _Sylvia_ leaningexpecting him: the sashes were up, and he tossed it in thehandkerchief into her window: she read it, and wrote an answer back assoft as love could form, to send him pleased to bed; wherein shecommanded him to hope all things from her wit and industrious love. 

This had partly the effects she wished, and after kissing his hand, and throwing it up towards _Sylvia_, they parted as silent as thenight from day, which was now just dividing--so long they stayed, though but to look at each other; so that all the morning was passedin bed to make the day seem shorter, which was too tedious to both:this pleasure he had after noon, towards the evening, that when_Sylvia_ walked, as she always did in the garden, he could see herthrough the glass of his window, but durst not open it; for the oldgentleman was ever with her. In this time _Octavio_ failed not howeverto essay the good nature of the gardener in order to _Sylvia_'sflight, but found there was no dealing with him in this affair; andtherefore durst not come right down to the point: the next night hecame under the beloved window again, and found the sacred object ofhis wishes leaning in the window expecting him: to whom, as soon asshe heard his tread on the gravel, she threw down a handkerchiefagain, which he took up, and tossed his own with a soft complainingletter to entertain her till his return; for he hasted to read hers, and swept the garden as he passed as swift as wind; so impatient hewas to see the inside--which he found thus:

SYLVIA _to_ OCTAVIO. 

I beg, my charming friend, you will be assured of all I have promisedyou; and to believe that but for the pleasure of those dear billets Ireceive from you, I could as little support this cruel confinement asyou my absence. I have but one game to play, and I beseech you not tobe surprised at it, it is to promise to marry _Sebastian_: he iseternally at my feet, and either I must give him my vow to become hiswife, or give him hope of other favours. I am so entirely yours, thatI will be guided by you, which I shall flatter him in to gain myliberty; for if I grant either, he has proposed to carry me to hiscountry-house, two leagues from the town, and there consummatewhatever I design to bless him with; and this is it that has wroughtmy consent, that we being to go alone, only my own servants, you mayeasily take me thence by force upon the road, or after our arrival, where he will not guard me perhaps so strictly as he does here: forthat, I leave it to your conduct, and expect your answer to yourimpatient

SYLVIA. 

 * * * * *

He immediately sat down, and wrote this:

 * * * * *

OCTAVIO _to_ SYLVIA. 

Have a care, my charming fair, how you play with vows; and however youare forced, for that religious end of saving your honour, to deceivethe poor old lover, whom, by heaven I pity; yet rather let me die thanknow you can be guilty of vow-breach, though made in jest. I am wellpleased at the glimpse of hope you give me, that I shall see you athis _villa_; and doubt not but to find a way to secure you to myself:say any thing, promise to sacrifice all to his desire; but oh, do notgive away thy dear, thy precious self by vow, to any but thelanguishing

OCTAVIO. 

 * * * * *

After he had wrote this, he hasted, and throws it into her window, andreturned to bed without seeing her, which was no small affliction tohis soul: he had an ill night of it, and fancied a thousand tormentingthings; that the old gentleman might then be with her; and if alone, what might he not persuade, by force of rich presents, of which hisuncle was well stored; and so he guessed, and as he guessed it proved, as by his next night's letter he was informed, that the old lover nosooner saw _Sylvia_ retire, but having in mind to try his fortune insome critical minute--for such a minute he had heard there was thatfavoured lovers; but he goes to his closet, and taking out some jewelsof great value, to make himself the more welcome, he goes directly to_Sylvia_'s chamber, and entered just as she had taken up _Octavio_'sletter, and clapped it in her bosom as she heard some body at thedoor; but was not in a little confusion, when she saw who it was, which she excused, by telling him she was surprised to find herselfwith a man in her chamber. That there he fell to pleading his cause oflove, and offered her again to settle his estate upon her, andimplored she would be his wife. After a thousand faint denials, shetold him she could not possibly receive that honour, but if she could, she would have looked upon it as a great favour from heaven; at thathe was thunder-struck, and looked as ghastly as if his mother's ghosthad frightened him; and after much debate, love and grief on his side, design and dissimulation on hers, she gave him hopes that atoned forall she had before said; insomuch that, before they parted, anabsolute bargain was struck up, and he was to settle part of hisestate upon her, as also that _villa_, to which he had resolved in twodays to carry her; in earnest of this, he presents her with a necklaceof pearl of good value, and other jewels, which was the best rhetoriche had yet spoke to her; and now she had appeared the most complaisantlady in the world, she suffers him to talk wantonly to her, nay, evento kiss her, and rub his grizzly beard on her divine face, grasp herhands, and touch her breast; a blessing he had never before arrivedto, above the quality of his own servant-maid. To all which she makesthe best resistance she can, under the circumstances of one who was todeceive well; and while she loathes, she seems well pleased, while thegay jewels sparkled in her eyes, and _Octavio_ in her heart; so fondis youth of vanities, and to purchase an addition of beauty at anyprice. Thus with her pretty flatteries she wrought upon his soul, andsmiled and looked him into faith; loath to depart, she sends himpleased away, and having her heart the more inclined to _Octavio_, bybeing persecuted with his uncle's love, (for by comparison she findsthe mighty difference) she sets herself to write him the account ofwhat I have related; this night's adventure, and agreement between hisuncle and herself. She tells him that to-morrow, (for now it wasalmost day, ) she had promised him to go to his _villa_: she tells himat what rate she has purchased the blessing expected; and lastly, leaves the management of the rest to him, who needs not to beinstructed. This letter he received the next night at the old place, and _Sylvia_ with it lets down a velvet night-bag, which contained allthe jewels and things of value she had received of himself, his uncle, or any other: after which he retired, and was pretty well at ease, with the imagination he should 'ere long be made happy in thepossession of _Sylvia_: in order to it, the next morning he was earlyup, and dressing himself in a great coarse campaign-coat of thegardener's, putting up his hair as well as he could, under a countryhat, he got on a horse that suited his habit, and rides to the_villa_, whither they were to come, and which he knew perfectly wellevery room of; for there our hero was born. He went to a little_cabaret_ in the village, from whence he could survey all the greathouse, and see every body that passed in and out: he remained fixed atthe window, filled with a thousand agitations; this he had resolved, not to set upon the old man as a thief, or robber; nor could he findin his heart or nature, to injure him, though but in a littleaffrighting him, who had given him so many anxious hours, and who hadbeen so unjust to desire that blessing himself he would not allow him;and to believe that virtue in himself, which he exclaims against as sogreat a vice in his nephew; nevertheless he resolved to deceive him, to save his own life. And he wanted that nice part of generosity, asto satisfy a little unnecessary lust in an old man, to ruin theeternal content of a young one, so nearly allied to his soul, as washis own dear proper person. While he was thus considering, he saw hisuncle's coach coming, and _Sylvia_ with that doting lover in it, whowas that day dressed in all the fopperies of youth, and every thingwas young and gay about him but his person; that was winter itself, disguised in artificial spring; and he was altogether a merecontradiction: but who can guess the disorders and pantings of_Octavio_'s heart at the sight? And though he had resolved before, hewould not to save his life, lay violent hands upon his old parent; yetat their approach, at their presenting themselves together before hiseyes as two lovers, going to betray him to all the miseries, pangs andconfusions of love; going to possess--her, the dear object and certainlife of his soul, and he the parent of him, to whom she had disposedof herself, so entirely already, he was provoked to break from all hisresolutions, and with one of those pistols he had in his pockets, tohave sent unerring death to his old amorous heart; but that thoughtwas no sooner born than stifled in his soul, where it met with all thesense of gratitude, that ever could present the tender love and dearcare of a parent there; and the coach passing into the gate put himupon new designs, and before they were finished he saw _Sylvia_'s pagecoming from the house, after seeing his lady to her apartment, andbeing shewed his own, where he laid his valise and riding things, andwas now come out to look about a country, where he had never beenbefore. _Octavio_ goes down and meets him, and ventures to makehimself known to him: and so infinitely glad was the youth to have anopportunity to serve him, that he vowed he would not only do it withhis life, on occasion, but believed he could do it effectually, sincethe old gentleman had no sort of jealousy now; especially, since theyhad so prudently managed matters in this time of his lady's remainingat _Sebastian_'s house. 'So that, sir, it will not be difficult, ' saysthe generous boy, 'for me to convey you to my lodging, when it isdark. ' He told him his lady cast many a longing look out towards theroad, as she passed, 'for you, I am sure, my lord;--for she had toldboth myself and _Antonet_ of her design before, lest our surprise orresistance should prevent any force you might use on the road, to takeher from my lord _Sebastian_: she sighed, and looked on me as shealighted, with eyes, my lord, that told me her grief, for yourdisappointment. '

You may easily imagine how transported the poor _Octavio_ was; hekissed and embraced the amiable boy a thousand times; and taking aring from his finger of considerable value, gave it the dear reviverof his hopes. _Octavio_ already knew the strength of the house, whichconsisted but of a gardener, whose wife was house-keeper, and theirson who was his father's servant in the garden, and their daughter, who was a sort of maid-servant: and they had brought only thecoachman, and one footman, who were likely to be merrily employed inthe kitchen at night when all got to supper together. I say, _Octavio_already knew this, and there was now nothing that opposed his wishes:so that dismissing the dear boy, he remained the rest of the tediousday at the _cabaret_, the most impatient of night of any man on earth;and when the boy appeared, it was like the approach of an angel. Hetold him, his lady was the most melancholy creature that ever eyesbeheld, and that to conceal the cause, she had feigned herself ill, and had not stirred from her chamber all the day: that the old loverwas perpetually with her, and the most concerned dotard that ever_Cupid_ enslaved: that he had so wholly taken up his lady with hisdisagreeable entertainment, that it was impossible either by a look ornote to inform her of his being so near her, whom she considered asher present defender, and her future happiness. 'But this evening, 'continued the youth, 'as I was waiting on her at supper, she spied thering on my finger, which, my lord, your bounty made me master of thismorning. She blushed a thousand times, and fixed her eyes upon it forshe knew it, and was impatient to have asked me some questions, butcontained her words: and after that, I saw a joy dance in her lovelyeyes, that told me she divined you were not far from thence. ThereforeI beseech your lordship let us haste. ' So both went out together, andthe page conducted him into a chamber he better knew than the boy, while every moment he receives intelligence, how affairs went in thatof _Sylvia_'s by the page, who leaving _Octavio_ there went out as aspy for him. In fine, with much ado, _Sylvia_ persuaded her old loverto urge her for no favours that night, for she was indisposed andunfit for love; yet she persuades with such an air, so smiling, andinsinuating, that she increases the fire, she endeavoured to allay:but he, who was all obedience, as well as new desire, resolves tohumour her, and shew the perfect gallantry of his love; he promisesher she shall command: and after that never was the old gentleman seenin so excellent a humour before in the whole course of his life; acertain lightning against a storm that must be fatal to him. 

He was no sooner gone from her, with a promise to go to bed and sleep, that he might be the earlier up to shew her the fine gardens, whichshe loved, but she sends _Antonet_ to call the page, from whom shelonged to know something of _Octavio_, and was sure he could informher. But she was undressing while she spoke, and got into her bedbefore she left her: but _Antonet_, instead of bringing the sighingyouth, brought the transported and ravished _Octavio_, who had by thistime pulled his coarse campaign, and put down his hair. He fellbreathless with joy on her bed-side; when _Antonet_, who knew thatlove desired no lookers-on, retired, and left _Octavio_ almost deadwith joy, in the clasping arms of the trembling maid, the lovely_Sylvia_. Oh, who can guess their satisfaction? Who can guess theirsighs and love, their tender words, half stifled in kisses? Lovers!fond lovers! only can imagine; to all besides, this tale will beinsipid. He now forgets where he is, that not far off lay his amorousuncle, that to be found there was death, and something worse; butwholly ravished with the languishing beauty, taking his pistols out ofeither pocket, he lays them on a dressing-table, near the bed-side, and in a moment throws off his clothes, and gives himself up to allthe heaven of love, that lay ready to receive him there, withoutthinking of any thing, but the vast power of either's charms. They layand forgot the hasty hours, but old _Sebastian_ did not. They were allcounted by him with the impatience of a lover: he burnt, he raged withfierce desire, and tossed from side to side, and found no ease;_Sylvia_ was present in imagination, and he like _Tantalus_ reaches atthe food, which, though in view, is not within his reach: he wouldhave prayed, but he had no devotion for any deity but _Sylvia_; herose and walked and went to bed again, and found himself uneasy everyway. A thousand times he was about to go, and try what opportunitywould do, in the dark silent night--but fears her rage--he fears shewill chide at least; then he resolves, and unresolves as fast: unhappylover--thus to blow the fire when there was no materials to supply it;at last, overcome with fierce desire too violent to be withstood, orrather fate would have it so ordained, he ventures all, and steals to_Sylvia_'s chamber, believing, when she found him in her arms, shecould not be displeased; or if she were, that was the surest place ofreconciliation: so that only putting his night-gown about him, he wentsoftly to her chamber for fear of waking her: the unthinking lovershad left open the door, so that it was hardly put to; and the firstalarm was _Octavio_'s hand being seized, which was clasping histreasure. He starts from the frighted arms of _Sylvia_, and leapingfrom the bed would have escaped; for he knew too well the touch ofthat old hand; but _Sebastian_, wholly surprised at so robust arepulse, took most unfortunately a stronger hold, and laying both hishands roughly upon him, with a resolution to know who he was, for hefelt his hair; and _Octavio_ struggling at the same minute to get fromhim, they both fell against the dressing-table, and threw down thepistols; in their fall, one of which going off, shot the unfortunateold lover into the head, so that he never spoke word more: at thegoing off of the pistol, _Sylvia_, who had not minded those _Octavio_laid on the table, cried out--'Oh my _Octavio_!' 'My dearest charmer, 'replied he, 'I am well----'and feeling on the dead body, which hewondered had no longer motion, he felt blood flowing round it, andsighing cried--'Ah _Sylvia_! I am undone--my uncle--oh myparent----speak, dear sir! what unlucky accident has done this fataldeed?' _Sylvia_, who was very soft by nature, was extremely surprised, and frightened at the news of a dead man in her chamber, so that shewas ready to run mad with the apprehension of it: she raved and toreherself, and expressed her fright in cries and distraction; so that_Octavio_ was compelled from one charitable grief to another. He goesto her and comforts her, and tells, since it is by no design of eitherof them, their innocence will be their guardian angel. He tells her, all their fault was love, which made him so heedlessly fond of joyswith her, he stayed to reap those when he should have secured them byflight. He tells her this is now no place to stay in, and that hewould put on her clothes, and fly with her to some secure part of theworld; 'For who, ' said he, 'that finds this poor unfortunate here, willnot charge his death on me, or thee?----Haste then, my dearest maid, haste, haste, and let us fly----' So dressing her, he led her into_Antonet_'s chamber, while he went to see which way they could getout. So locking the chamber-door where the dead body lay, which bythis time was stiff and cold, he locked that also of his uncle'schamber, and calling the page, they all got themselves ready; andputting two horses in the coach, they unseen and unperceived gotthemselves all out: the servants having drank hard at their meeting inthe country last night, were all too sound asleep to understand anything of what passed. It being now about the break of day, _Octavio_was the coachman, and the page riding by the coach-side, while_Sylvia_ and _Antonet_ were in it, they in an hour's time reached thetown, where _Octavio_ packed up all that was carriageable; took hisown coach and six horses; left his affairs to the management of akinsman, that dwelt with him, took bills to the value of two thousandpounds, and immediately left the town, after receiving some lettersthat came last night by the post, one of which was from _Philander_;and indeed, this new grief upon _Octavio_'s soul, made him the mostdejected and melancholy man in the world, insomuch that he, who neverwept for any thing but for love, was often found with tears rollingdown his cheeks, at the remembrance of an accident so deplorable, andof which, he and his unhappy passion was the cause, though innocently:yet could not the dire reflection of that, nor the loss of so tender aparent as was _Sebastian_, lessen one spark of that fire for _Sylvia_, whose unfortunate flame had been so fatal. While they were safe out ofdanger, the servants of _Sebastian_ admired when ten, eleven andtwelve o'clock was come, they saw neither the old lord, nor any of thenew guests. But when the coachman missed his coach and horses, he wasin a greater maze, and thought some body had stolen them, and accusinghimself of sluggishness and debauchery, that made him not able tohear, when the coach went out, he forswore all drinking: but when thehouse-keeper and he met, and discoursed about the lady and the rest, they concluded, that the old gentleman and she were agreed upon thematter; and being got to bed together had quite forgot themselves; andmade a thousand roguish remarks upon them. They believed the maid andthe page too, were as well employed, since they saw neither. But whendinner was ready, she went up to the maid's chamber and found itempty, as also that of the page; her heart then presaging something, she ventures to knock at her lord's chamber-door, but finding itlocked, and none answer, they broke it open; and after doing the sameby that of _Sylvia_, they found the poor _Sebastian_ stretched on thefloor, and shot in the head, the toilet pulled almost down, and thelock of the pistol hanging in the point of the toilet entangled, andthe muzzle of it just against the wound. At first, when they saw him, they fancied _Sylvia_ might kill him, for either offering to come tobed to her in the night, or some other malicious end. But when theysaw how the pistol lay, they fancied it accident in the dark; 'For, 'said the woman--'I and my daughter have been up ever since day-break, and I am sure no such thing happened then, nor could they sinceescape:' and it being natural in _Holland_ to cry, 'Loop Schellum', that is, 'Run rogue', to him that is alive, and who has killedanother; and for every man to set a helping hand to bear him out ofdanger, thinking it too much that one is already dead: I say, thisbeing the nature of the people, they never pursued the murderers, orfled persons, but suffered _Sebastian_ to lie till the coroner satupon him, who found it, or at least thought it accident; and there wasall for that time. But this, with all the reasonable circumstances, did not satisfy the _States_. Here is one of their high and mightieskilled, a fair lady fled, and upon inquiry a fine young fellow too, the nephew: all knew they were rivals in this fair lady; all knewthere were animosities between them; all knew _Octavio_ was abscondedsome days before; so that, upon consideration, they concluded he wasmurdered by compact; and the rather, because they wished it so inspite of _Octavio_; and because both he and _Sylvia_ were fled likeguilty persons. Upon this they made a seizure of both his, and hisuncle's estate, to the use of the _States_. Thus the best and mostglorious man, that ever graced that part of the world, was undone bylove. While _Sylvia_ with sighs and tears would often say that sureshe was born the fate of all that adored her, and no man ever thrivedthat had a design upon her, or a pretension to her. 

Thus between excess of grief and excess of love, which indeed layveiled in the first, they arrived at _Brussels_; where _Octavio_, having news of the proceedings of the _States_ against him, resolvingrather to lose his life, than tamely to surrender his right, he wentforth in order to take some care about it: and in these extremes of atroubled mind, he had forgot to read _Philander_'s letters, but gavethem to _Sylvia_ to peruse, till he returned, beseeching and conjuringher, by all the charms of love, not to suffer herself to be afflicted, but now to consider she was wholly his; and she could not, and oughtnot to rob him of a sigh, or tear for any other man. For they hadconcluded to marry, as soon as _Sylvia_ should be delivered from thatpart of _Philander_, of which she was possessed. Therefore beholdingher entirely his own, of whom he was so fondly tender, he could notendure the wind should blow on her, and kiss her lovely face: jealousof even the air she breathed, he was ever putting her in mind, ofwhose and what she was; and she ever giving him new assurances, thatshe was only _Octavio_'s. The last part of his ill news he concealedfrom her; that of the usage of the _States_. He was so entirelycareful of her fame, that he had two lodgings, one most magnificentfor her, another for himself; and only visited her all the live-longday. And being now retired from her, she whose love and curiosity grewless every day, for the false _Philander_, opened his letter with asigh of departed love, and read this. 

Philander _to_ Octavio. 

Sure of your friendship, my dear _Octavio_, I venture to lay beforeyou the history of my misfortunes, as well as those of my joys, equally extreme. 

In my last, I gave you an account how triumphing a lover I was, in thepossession of the adorable _Calista_; and how very near I was beingsurprised in the fountain, where I had hid myself from the rage of old_Clarinau_; and escaped wet and cold to my lodging: and though indeedI escaped, it was not without giving the old husband a jealousy, whichput him upon inquiry, after a stricter manner, as I heard the next dayfrom _Calista_; but with as ill success as the night before;notwithstanding it appears, by what after happened, that he stillretained his jealousy, and that of me, from a thousand littleinquiries I had from time to time made, from my being now absent, andmost of all from my being, (as now he fancied) that vision, which_Calista_ saw in the garden. All these circumstances wrought athousand _conundrums_, in his _Spanish_ politic noddle: and heresolves that _Calista_'s actions should be more narrowly watched. This I can only guess from what ensued. I am not able to say, by whatgood fortune, I escaped several happy nights after the first, but itis certain I did so; for the old man carrying all things fair to thelovely Countess, she thought herself secure in her joys hitherto, asto any discovery: however, I never went on this dear adventure but Iwas well armed against any mishaps, of poniard, sword, and pistol, that garb of a right _Spaniard_. _Calista_ had been married above twoyears, before I beheld her, and had never been with child: but it sochanced, that she conceived the very first night of our happiness;since which time, not all her flatteries and charms, could prevail forone night with the old Count: for, whether from her seeming fondnesshe imagined the cause, or what other reason he had to withstand herdesire and caresses, I know not: but still he found, or feigned someexcuses to put her off: so that _Calista_'s pleas and love increasedwith her growing belly. And though almost every night I had the fair, young charmer in bed with me, (without the least suspicion on_Dormina_'s side) or, else in the arbours, or on flowery banks in thegarden; till I am confident there was not a walk, a grove, an arbour, or bed of sweets, that was not conscious of our stolen delights; nay, we grew so very bold in love, that we often suffered the day to breakupon us; and still escaped his spies, who by either watching at thewrong door, or part of the vast garden, or by sleepiness, orcarelessness, still let us pass their view. Four happy months, thusblessed, and thus secured, we lived, when _Calista_ could no longerconceal her growing shame, from the jealous _Clarinau_, or _Dormina_. She feared, with too much reason, that it was jealousy, which made himrefrain her bed, though he dissembled well all day; and one night, weeping in my bosom, with all the tenderness of love, she said, thatif I loved her, as she hoped I did, I should be shortly verymiserable: 'For oh, ' cries she, 'I can no longer hide this----deareffect of my stolen happiness----and _Clarinau_ will no soonerperceive my condition, but he will use his utmost rigour against me; Iknow his jealous nature, and find I am undone----' With that she toldme how he had killed his first wife; for which he was obliged to flyfrom the Court, and country of _Spain_: and that she found from allhis severity, he was not changed from his nature. In fine, she saidand loved so much, that I was wholly charmed, and vowed myself herslave, or sacrifice, either to follow what she could propose, or falla victim with her to my love. After which it was concluded, (neitherhaving a mind to leave the world, when we both knew so well how tomake ourselves happy in it) that the next night I should bring her asuit of men's clothes; and she would in that disguise fly with me toany part of the world. For she vowed, if this unlucky force of flyinghad not happened to her, she had not been longer able to endure histyranny and slavery; but had resolved to break her chain, and putherself upon any fortune. So that after the usual endearments on bothsides, I left her, resolved to follow my fortune, and she me, tosacrifice all to her repose. That night, and all next day, she was notidle; but put up all her jewels, of which she had the richest of anylady in all those parts; for in that the old Count was over-lavish:and the next night I brought her a suit, which I had made that day onpurpose, as gay as could be made in so short a time; and scaling mywall, well armed, I found her ready at the door to receive me; andgoing into an arbour, by the aid of a dark-lanthorn I carried, shedressed her in a laced shirt of mine, and this suit I had brought her, of blue velvet, trimmed with rich loops and buttons of gold; a whitehat, and white feather; a fair peruke, and scarlet breeches, the restsuitable. And I must confess to you, my dear _Octavio_, that never anything appeared so ravishing, and yet I have seen _Sylvia_! But evenshe a baby to this more noble figure. _Calista_ is tall, and fashionedthe most divinely--the most proper for that dress of any of her sex:and I own I never saw any thing so beautiful all over, from head tofoot: and viewing her thus, (carrying my lanthorn all about her) butmore especially her face, her wondrous, charming face--(pardon me, ifI say, what does but look like flattery)--I never saw any thing moreresembling my dear _Octavio_, than the lovely _Calista_, Your veryfeature, your very smile and air; so that, if possible, that increasedmy adoration and esteem for her: thus completed, I armed her, andbuckled on her sword, and she would needs have one of my pistols too, that stuck in my belt; and now she appeared all lovely man. It was solate by that time we had done, that the moon, which began to shinevery bright, gave us a thousand little fears, and disposing her jewelsall about us safe, we began our adventure, with a thousand dreadfulapprehensions on _Calista_'s side. And going up the walk, towards theplace where we were to mount the wall, just at the end of it, turninga corner, we encountered two men, who were too near us to beprevented. 'Oh, ' cried _Calista_ to me, who saw them first, --'My dear_Philander_, we are undone!' I looked and saw them, and replied, 'Mycharmer, do not fear, they are but two to two, whoever they be; forlove and I shall be of force enough to encounter them. ' 'No, my_Philander_, ' replied she briskly, 'it is I will be your second inthis rencounter. ' At this approaching them more near, (for they hastedto us, nor could we fly from them, ) we soon found by his hobbling, that old _Clarinau_ was one, and the other a tall _Spaniard_, hisnephew. I clapped my hair under my hat, and both of us making a stand, we resolved, if they durst not venture on us, to let them pass----but_Clarinau_, who was on that side which faced _Calista_, cried, 'Ahvillain, have I caught thee!' and at the same instant with a poniardstabbed her into the arm; for with a sudden turn she evaded it fromher heart, to which it was designed. At which, repaying hiscompliment, she shot off her pistol, and down he fell, crying out fora priest; while I, at the same time, laid my tall boy at his feet. Icaught my dear _virago_ in my arms, and hasted through the garden withher, and was very hasty in mounting the ladder, putting my fair secondbefore me, without so much as daring yet to ask her, if she werewounded, lest it should have hindered our flight, if I had found herhurt: nor knew I she was so, till I felt her warm precious blood, streaming on my face, as I lifted her over the wall; but I soonconveyed her into my new lodgings, yet not soon enough to secure herfrom those that pursued us. For with their bawling they alarmed someof the servants, who looking narrowly for the murderers, tracked us by_Calista_'s, blood, which they saw with their flambeaus, from theplace where _Clarinau_, and his nephew lay, to the very wall; andthinking from our wounds we could not escape far, they searching thehouses, found me dressing _Calista_'s wound, which I kissed a thousandtimes. But the matchless courage of the fair _virago_! the magnanimityof _Calista_'s soul! Nothing of foolish woman harboured there, nothingbut softest love; for whilst I was raving mad, tearing my hair andcursing my fate in vain, she had no concern but for me; no pain butthat of her fear of being taken from me, and being delivered to old_Clarinau_, whom I feared was not dead; nor could the very seizingher, daunt her spirits, but with an unmatched fortitude she bore itall; she only wished she could have escaped without bloodshed. We wereboth led to prison, but none knew who we were; for those that seizedus, had by chance never seen me, and _Calista_'s habit secured thediscovery. While we both remained there, we had this comfort of beingwell lodged together; for they did not go about to part us, being infor one crime. And all the satisfaction she had, was, that she should, she hoped, die concealed, if she must die for the crime; and that wasmuch a greater joy, than to think she should be rendered back to_Clarinau_, who in a few days we heard was upon his recovery. Thisgave her new fears; but I confess to you, I was not afflicted at it;nor did I think it hard for me to bribe _Calista_ off; for the masterof the prison was very civil and poor, so that with the help of somefew of _Calista_'s, jewels, he was wrought upon to let her escape, Ioffering to remain, and bear all the brunt of the business, and to paywhatever he could be fined for it. These reasons, with the readyjewels, mollified the needy rascal; and though loath she were to leaveme, yet she being assured that all they could do was but to fine me, and her stay she knew was her inevitable ruin, at last submitted, leaving me sufficient in jewels to satisfy for all that could happen, which were the value of a hundred thousand crowns. She is fled to_Brussels_, to a nunnery of _Augustines_, where the Lady Abbess is heraunt, and where for a little time she is secure, till I can followher. 

I beg of you my dear _Octavio_, write to me, and write me a letter ofrecommendation to the magistrates here, who all being concerned whenany one of them is a cuckold, are very severe upon criminals in thosecases. I tire you with my melancholy adventure--but it is some ease inthe extremes of grief, to receive the tender pity of a friend, andthat I am sure _Octavio_ will afford his unhappy

PHILANDER. 

As cold and as unconcerned as _Sylvia_ imagined she had found herheart to _Philander_'s, memory, at the reading of this letter, inspite of all the tenderness she had for _Octavio_, she was possessedwith all those pains of love and jealousy, which heretofore tormentedher, when love was young, and _Philander_ appeared with all thosecharms, with which he first conquered; she found the fire was but hidunder those embers, which every little blast blows off, and makes itflame anew. It was now that she, forgetting all the past obligationsof _Octavio_, all his vast presents, his vows, his sufferings, hispassion and his youth, abandoned herself wholly to her tenderness for_Philander_, and drowns her fair cheeks in a shower of tears: andhaving eased her heart a little by this natural relief of her sex, sheopened the letter that was designed for herself, and read this. 

_To_ SYLVIA. 

I know, my lovely _Sylvia_, I am accused of a thousand barbarities forunkindly detaining your lover, who long ere this ought to have thrownhimself at your feet, imploring a thousand pardons for his tedious sixmonths' absence, though the affliction of it, is all my own, and I amafraid all the punishment; but when, my dearest _Sylvia_, I reflectagain, it is in order to our future tranquillity, I depend on yourlove and reason for my excuse. I know my absence has procured me athousand rivals, and you as many adorers, and fear _Philander_ appearsgrown old in love, and worn out with sorrow and care, unfit for thesoft play of the young and delicate _Sylvia_; new lovers have new vowsand new presents, and your fickle sex stoop to the lavish prostrate. Ill luck--unkind fate has rifled me, and of a shining fortune left meeven to the charity of a stingy world; and I have now no compliment tomaintain the esteem in so great a soul as that of _Sylvia_, but thatold repeated one, of telling her my dull, my trifling heart is stillher own: but, oh! I want the presenting eloquence that so persuadesand charms the fair, and am reduced to that fatal torment of agenerous mind, rather to ask and take, than to bestow. Yet out of mycontemptible stock, I have sent my _Sylvia_ something towards thatdangerous, unavoidable hour, which will declare me, however, a happyfather of what my _Sylvia_ bears about her; it is a bill for athousand pattacoons. I am at present under an easy restraint about alittle dispute between a man of quality here and myself; I had alsobeen at _Brussels_ to have provided all things for your comingillness, but every day expect my liberty, and then without delay Iwill take post, and bring _Philander_ to your arms. I have news that_Cesario_ is arrived at _Brussels_. I am at present a stranger to allthat passes, and having a double obligation to haste, you need notfear but I shall do so. 

This letter raised in her a different sentiment, from that of thestory of his misfortune; and that taught her to know, that this he hadwrit to her was all false, and dissembled; which made her, inconcluding the letter, cry out with a vehement scorn andindignation. --'Oh how I hate thee, traitor! who hast the impudence tocontinue thus to impose upon me, as if I wanted common sense to seethy baseness: for what can be more base and cowardly than lies, thatpoor plebeian shift, condemned by men of honour or of wit. '

Thus she spoke, without reminding that this most contemptible qualityshe herself was equally guilty of, though infinitely more excusable inher sex, there being a thousand little actions of their lives, liableto censure and reproach, which they would willingly excuse and colourover with little falsities; but in a man, whose most inconstantactions pass oftentimes for innocent gallantries, and to whom it is noinfamy to own a thousand amours, but rather a glory to his fame andmerit; I say, in him, (whom custom has favoured with an allowance tocommit any vices and boast it) it is not so brave. And this fault of_Philander_'s cured _Sylvia_ of her disease of love, and chased fromher heart all that softness, which once had so much favoured him. Nevertheless she was filled with thoughts that failed not to make herextremely melancholy: and it was in this humour _Octavio_ found her;who, forgetting all his own griefs to lessen hers, (for his love wasarrived to a degree of madness) he caresses her with all the eloquencehis passion could pour out; he falls at her feet, and pleads with sucha look and voice as could not be resisted; nor ceased he till he hadtalked her into ease, till he had looked and loved her into a perfectcalm: it was then he urged her to a new confirmation of her heart tohim, and took hold of every yielding softness in her to improve hisadvantage. He pressed her to all he wished, but by such tenderdegrees, by arts so fond and endearing, that she could deny nothing. In this humour, she makes a thousand vows against _Philander_, to hatehim as a man, that had first ruined her honour, and then abandoned herto all the ills that attend ungovern'd youth, and unguarded beauty:she makes _Octavio_ swear as often to be revenged on him for thedishonour of his sister: which being performed, they re-assumed allthe satisfaction which had seemed almost destroyed by adverse fate, and for a little space lived in great tranquillity; or if _Octavio_had sentiments that represented past unhappinesses, and a futureprospect of ill consequences, he strove with all the power of love tohide them from _Sylvia_. In this time, they often sent to the nunneryof the _Augustines_, to inquire of the Countess of _Clarinau_; and atlast, hearing she was arrived, no force of persuasion or reason couldhinder _Sylvia_ from going to make her a visit. _Octavio_ pleads invain the overthrow of all his revenge, by his sister's knowledge thather intrigue was found out: but in an undress--for her conditionpermitted no other, she is carried to the monastery, and asks for theMother Prioress, who came to the grate; where, after the firstcompliments over, she tells her she is a relation to that lady, whosuch a day came to the house. _Sylvia_, by her habit and equipage, appearing of quality, was answered, that though the lady were verymuch indisposed, and unfit to appear at the grate, she wouldnevertheless endeavour to serve her, since she was so earnest; andcommanding one of the nuns to call down Madam the Countess, sheimmediately came; but though in a dress all negligent, and a facewhere languishment appeared, she at first sight surprised our fairone, with a certain majesty in her mien and motion, and an air ofgreatness in her face, which resembled that of _Octavio_: so that notbeing able to sustain herself on her trembling supporters, she wasready to faint at a sight so charming, and a form so angelic. She sawher all that _Philander_ had described; nor could the partiality ofhis passion render her more lovely than she appeared this instant to_Sylvia_. She came to reproach her----but she found a majesty in herlooks above all censure, that awed the jealous upbraider, and almostput her out of countenance; and with a rising blush she seemed ashamedof her errand. At this silence the lovely _Calista_, a littlesurprised, demanded of an attending nun if that lady would speak withher? This awaked _Sylvia_ into an address, and she replied, 'Yes, madam, I am the unfortunate, who am compelled by my hard fate tocomplain of the most charming woman that ever nature made: I thought, in my coming hither, I should have had no other business but to havetold you how false, how perjured a lover I had had; but at a sight sowondrous, I blame him no more, (whom I find now compelled to love) butyou, who have taken from me, by your charms, the only blessing heavenhad lent me. ' This she ended with a sigh; and Madam the Countess, whofrom the beginning of her speaking, guessed, from a certain tremblingat her heart, who it was she spoke of, resolved to shew no signs of awomanish fear or jealousy, but with an unalterable air and courage, replied, 'Madam, if my charms were so powerful, as you are pleased totell me they are, they sure have attracted too many lovers for me tounderstand which it is I have been so unhappy to rob you of. If he bea gallant man, I shall neither deny him, nor repent my loving him themore for his having been a lover before. ' To which _Sylvia_, whoexpected not so brisk an answer, replied; 'She makes such a confessionwith so much generosity, I know she cannot be insensible of theinjuries she does, but will have a consideration and pity for thosewretches at least, who are undone to establish her satisfaction. ''Madam, ' replied the Countess, (a little touched with the tendernessand sadness with which she spoke) 'you have so just a character of mysoul, that I assure you I would not for any pleasure in the world doan action should render it less worthy of your good thoughts. Name methe man--and if I find him such as I may return you with honour, heshall find my friendship no more. ' 'Ah, madam, it is impossible, 'cried _Sylvia_, 'that he can ever be mine, that has once had the gloryof being conquered by you; and what is yet more, of having conqueredyou. ' 'Nay, madam, ' replied _Calista_, 'if your loss be irrecoverable, I have no more to do but to sigh with you, and join our hard fates;but I am not so vain of my own beauty, nor have so little admirationfor that of yours, to imagine I can retain any thing you have a claimto; for me, I am not fond of admirers, if heaven be pleased to give meone, I ask no more. I will leave the world to you, so it allow me my_Philander_. ' This she spoke with a little malice, which called up allthe blushes in the fair face of _Sylvia_; who a little nettled at theword _Philander_, replied; 'Go, take the perjured man, and see howlong you can maintain your empire over his fickle heart, who hasalready betrayed you to all the reproach an incensed rival and aninjured brother can load you with: see where he has exposed you to_Octavio_; and after that tell me what you can hope from such aperjured villain----' At these words, she gave her the letter_Philander_ had writ to _Octavio_, with that he had writ toherself--and without taking leave, or speaking any more, she left herthoughtful rival: who after pausing a moment on what should be writthere, and what the angry lady meant, she silently passed on to herchamber. But if she were surprised with her visitor, she was muchmore, when opening the letters she found one to her brother, filledwith the history of her infamy, and what pressed her soul moresensibly, the other filled with passion and softness to a mistress. She had scarcely read them out, but a young nun, her kinswoman, cameinto her chamber; whom I have since heard protest, she scarce saw inthat moment any alteration in her, but that she rose and received her, with her wonted grace and sweetness; and but for some answers that shemade _mal ŕ propos_, and sighs, that against her will broke from herheart, she should not have found an alteration; but this beingunusual, made her inquisitive; and the faint denial she met with madeher importune, and that so earnestly, and with so many vows offidelity and secrecy, that _Calista_'s heart, even breaking within, poured itself for ease, into the faithful bosom of this young devotee;and having told her all the story of her misfortune, she began with somuch courage and bravery of mind, to make vows against the charmingbetrayer of her fame, and with him all mankind, and this with suchconsideration and repentance, as left no room for reproach, orpersuasion; and from this moment resolved never to quit the solitudeof the cloisters. She had all her life, before her marriage, lived inone, and wished now, she had never seen the world, or departed from alife so pure and innocent. She looked upon this fatal accident, now ablessing, to bring her back to a life of devotion and tranquillity:and indeed is a miracle of piety. Some time after this, she wasbrought to bed, but commanded the child should be removed, where shemight never see it, which accordingly was done; after which, in duetime, she took the habit, and remains a rare example of repentance andholy-living. This new penitent became the news of the whole town; andit was not without some pleasure, that _Octavio_ heard it, as the onlyaction she could do, that could reconcile him to her; the knowledge ofwhich, and some few soft days with _Sylvia_, made him chase away allthose shiverings, that had seized him upon several occasions: but_Sylvia_ was all sweetness, all love and good humour, and made hisdays easy, and his nights entirely happy. While, on the other side, there was no satisfaction, no pleasure, that the fond lavish lover didnot, at any price, purchase for her repose; for it was the wholebusiness of his life, to study what would charm and please her: andbeing assured by so many vows of her heart, there was nothing rested, to make him perfectly happy, but her being delivered of what belongedto his rival, and in which he had no part, he was at perfect ease. This she wishes with an impatience equal to his; whose love andfondness for _Octavio_ appeared to be arrived to the highest degree, and she every minute expected to be free from the only thing, thathindered her from giving herself entirely to her impatient love. 

In the midst of this serenity of affairs, _Sylvia_'s page one daybrings them news his lord was arrived, and that he saw him in the parkwalking with some _French_ gentlemen, and undiscovered to him came togive her notice, that she might take her measures accordingly. Inspite of all her love to _Octavio_, her blushes flew to her cheeks atthe news, and her heart panted with unusual motion; she wonders atherself, and fears and doubts her own resolution; she till nowbelieved him wholly indifferent to her, but she knows not whatconstruction this new disorder will bear; and what confounded andperplexed her more, was, that _Octavio_ beheld all these emotions, with unconceivable resentment; he swells with pride and anger, andeven bursts with grief, and not able longer to contain his complaint, he reproaches her in the softest language that ever love and griefinvented; while she weeps with shame and divided love, and demands ofhim a thousand pardons; she deals thus kindly at least with him, toconfess this truth; that it was impossible, but at the approach of aman, who taught her first to love, and for which knowledge she hadpaid so infinitely dear, she could not but feel unusual motions; thatthat tenderness and infant flame, he once inspired, could not but haveleft some warmth about her heart, and that _Philander_, the oncecharming dear _Philander_, could never be absolutely to her as acommon man, and begged that he would give some grains of allowance toa maid, so soft by nature, and who had once loved so well, to beundone by the dear object; and though every kind word she gave hisrival was a dagger at his heart, nevertheless, he found, or wouldthink he found, some reason in what she said; at least he seemed moreappeased, while she, on the other side, dissembled all the ease, andrepose of mind, that could flatter him to calmness. 

You must know, that for _Sylvia_'s, honour, she had lodgings byherself, and _Octavio_ had his in another house, at an aunt's of his, a widow, and a woman of great quality; and _Sylvia_ being near herlying-in, had provided all things, with the greatest magnificenceimaginable, and passed for a young widow, whose husband died, at theSiege of----_Octavio_ only visited her daily, and all the nights shehad to herself. For he treated her as one whom he designed to make hiswife, and one whose honour was his own; but that night the news of_Philander_'s, arrival was told her, she was more than ordinaryimpatient to have him gone, pretending illness, and yet seemed loathto let him go, and lovers (the greatest cullies in nature, and theaptest to be deceived, though the most quick-sighted)--do the soonestbelieve; and finding it the more necessary he should depart, the moreill she feigned to be, he took his leave, and left her to repose, after taking all care necessary, for one in her circumstances. Butshe, to make his absence more sure, and fearing lest he should suspectsomething of her design, being herself guilty, she orders him to becalled back, and caresses him anew, tells him she was never moreunwilling to part with him, and all the while is complaining andwishing to be in bed; and says he must not stir till he sees her laid. This obliges and cajoles him anew, and he will not suffer her women toundress her, but does the grateful business himself, and reaps somedear recompense by every service, and pleases his eyes and lips, withthe ravishing beauties, of the loose unguarded, suffering fair one. She permits him any thing to have him gone, which was not till he sawher laid, as if to her rest: but he was no sooner got into his coach, but she rose, and slipped on her night-gown, and some other loosethingss and got into a chair, commanding her page to conduct thechairmen to all the great _cabarets_, where she believed it mostlikely to find _Philander_; which was accordingly done; and the pageentering, inquires for such a _cavalier_, describing his person, hisfine remarkable black hair of his own: but the first he entered into, he saw _Brilliard_ bespeaking supper: for you must know that, thathusband-lover being left, as I have said, in prison in _Holland_, forthe accusation of _Octavio_; the unhappy young nobleman was no soonerfled upon the unlucky death of his uncle, but the _States_ set_Brilliard_ at liberty; who took his journey immediately to_Philander_, whom he found just released from his troublesome affair, and designed for _Brussels_, where they arrived that very morning:where the first thing he did, was to go to the nunnery of St _Austin_, to inquire for the fair _Calista_; but instead of encountering thekind, the impatient, the brave _Calista_, he was addressed to, by theold Lady Abbess, in so rough a manner, that he no longer doubted, uponwhat terms he stood there, though he wondered how they should know hisstory with _Calista_: when to put him out of doubt, she assured him, he should never more behold the face of her injured niece; for whoserevenge she left him to heaven. It was in vain he kneeled andimplored; he was confirmed again and again, she should never come fromout the confines of those walls; and that her whole remaining lifespent in penitence, was too little to wash away her sins with him: andgiving him the letter he sent to _Octavio_, (which _Sylvia_ had given_Calista_, and she the Lady Abbess, with a full confession of herfault) she cried; 'See there, sir, the treachery you have committedagainst a woman of quality--whom your criminal love has rendered themost miserable of her sex. ' At the ending of which, she drew thecurtain over the grate, and left him, wholly amazed and confounded, finding it to be the same he had writ to _Octavio_, and in it, that hehad writ to _Sylvia_: by the sight of which, he no longer doubted, butthat confidante had betrayed him every way. He rails on his falsefriendship, curses the Lady Abbess, himself, his fortune, and hisbirth; but finds it all in vain: nor was he so infinitely afflictedwith the thought of the eternal loss of _Calista_, (because he hadpossessed her) as he was to find himself betrayed to her, anddoubtless to _Sylvia_, by _Octavio_; and nothing but _Calista_'s beingconfined from him, (though she were very dear and charming to histhought) could have made him rave so extremely for a sight of her: heloves her the more, by how much the more it was impossible for him tosee her; and that difficulty and his despair increased his flame. Inthis humour he went to his lodging, the most undone extravagant thatever raged with love. He considers her in a place, where no art, orforce of love, or human wit, can retrieve her; no nor so much as sendher a letter. This added to his fury, and in his first wildimaginations, he resolves nothing less than firing the monastery, thatin that confusion he might seize his right of love, and do a deed, that would render his name famous as the _Athenian_ youth, who to geta fame, though an inglorious one, fired the temple of their gods. Buthis rage abating by consideration, that impiety dwelt not long withhim: and he ran over a number more, till from one to another, hereduced himself, to a degree of moderation, which presenting him withsome flattering hope, that give him a little ease: it was then that_Chevalier Tomaso_, and another _French_ gentleman of _Cesario_'sfaction, (who were newly arrived at _Brussels_) came to pay him theirrespects: and after a while carried him into the park to walk, where_Sylvia_'s page had seen him; and from whence they sent _Brilliard_ tobespeak supper at this _cabaret_, where _Sylvia_'s chair and herselfwaited, and where the page found _Brilliard_, of whom he asked for hislord; but understanding he could not possibly come in some hours, being designed for Court that evening, whither he was obliged to goand kiss the Governor's hands, he went to the lady, who was almostdead with impatience, and told her, what he had learned: upon whichshe ordered her chairmen to carry her back to her lodgings, for shewould not be persuaded to ask any questions of _Brilliard_, for whomshe had a mortal hate: however, she resolved to send her page backwith a billet, to wait _Philander_'s coming, which was not long; forhaving sooner dispatched their compliment at Court than they believedthey should, they went all to supper together, where _Brilliard_ hadbespoke it; where being impatient to learn all the adventures of_Cesario_, since his departure from him, and of which no person couldgive so good an account as _Chevalier Tomaso_, _Philander_ gave orderthat no body whomsoever should disturb them, and sat himself down tolisten to the fortune of the Prince. 

'You know, my lord, ' said _Tomaso_, 'the state of things at yourdeparture; and that all our glorious designs, for the liberty of all_France_ were discovered, and betrayed by some of those littlerascals, that great men are obliged to make use of in the greatestdesigns: upon whose confession you were proscribed, myself, thisgentleman, and several others: it was our good fortunes to escapeuntaken, and yours to fall first in the messenger's hands, and carriedto the _Bastille_, even from whence you had the luck to escape: but itwas not so with _Cesario_. ' 'Heavens, ' cried _Philander_, 'the Prince, I hope is not taken. ' 'Not so neither, ' replied _Tomaso_, 'nor shouldyou wonder you have received no news of him, in a long time, sinceforty thousand crowns being offered for his head, or to any thing thatcould discover him, it would have exposed him to have written to anybody, he being beset on all sides with spies from the King; so that itwas impossible to venture a letter, without very great hazard of hislife. Besides all these hindrances, _Cesario_, who, you know, was evera great admirer of the fair sex, happened in this his retreat to fallmost desperately in love: nor could the fears of death, which alarmedhim on all sides, deter him from his new amour: which, because it hasrelation to some part of his adventures, I cannot omit, especially toyour lordship, his friend, to whom every circumstance of that Prince'sfate and fortune will be of concern. 

'You must imagine, my lord, that your seizure and escape was enough toalarm the whole party; and there was not a man of the League who didnot think it high time to look about him, when one, so considerable asyour lordship, was surprised. Nor did the Prince himself any longerbelieve himself safe, but retired himself under the darkness of thefollowing night: he went only accompanied with his page to a lady'shouse, a widow of quality at _Paris_, that populous city being, as heconceived, the securest place to conceal himself in. This lady wasMadam the Countess of----who had, as you know, my lord, one onlydaughter, _Mademoiselle Hermione_, the heiress of her family. ThePrince knew this young lady had a tenderness for him ever since theywere both very young, which first took beginning in a masque at Court, where she then acted _Mercury_, and danced so exceedingly finely, thatshe gave our young hero new desire, if not absolute love, and charmedhim at least into wishes. She was not then old enough to perceive sheconquered, as well as to make a conquest: and she was capable ofreceiving impressions as well as to give them: and it was believed bysome who were very near the Prince, and knew all his secrets then, that this young lady pitied the sighs of the royal lover, and eventhen rewarded them: and though this were most credibly whispered, yetmethinks it seems impossible he should then have been happy; and afterso many years, after the possession of so many other beauties, shouldreturn to her again, and find all the passions and pains of abeginning flame. But there is nothing to be wondered at in thecontradictions and humours of human nature. But however inconstant andwavering he had been, _Hermione_ retained her first passion for him;and that I less wonder at, since you know the Prince has the mostcharming person in the world, and is the most perfectly beautiful ofall his sex: to this his youth and quality add no little lustre; and Ishould not wonder, if all the softer sex should languish for him, northat any one should love on--who hath once been touched with love forhim. 

'It was his last assurance the Prince so absolutely depended on, that(notwithstanding she was far from the opinion of his party) made himresolve to take sanctuary in those arms he was sure would receive himin any condition and circumstances. But now he makes her new vows, which possibly at first his safety obliged him to, while she returnedthem with all the passion of love. He made a thousand submissions toMadam the Countess, who he knew was fond of her daughter to thatdegree, that for her repose she was even willing to behold thesacrifice of her honour to this Prince, whom she knew _Hermione_ lovedeven to death; so fond, so blindly fond is nature: and indeed after alittle time that he lay there concealed, he reaped all thesatisfaction that love could give him, or his youth could wish, withall the freedom imaginable. He only made vows of renouncing all otherwomen, what ties or obligations soever he had upon him, and to resignhimself entirely up to _Hermione_. I know not what new charms he hadfound by frequent conversation with her, and being uninterrupted bythe sight of any other ladies; but it is most certain, my lord, thathe grew to that excess of love, or rather dotage, (if love in one soyoung can be called so) that he languished for her, even while hepossessed her all: he died, if obliged by company to retire from heran hour, at the end of which, being again brought to her, he wouldfall at her feet, and sigh, and weep, and make the most piteous moanthat ever love inspired. He would complain upon the cruelty of amoment's absence, and vow he would not live where she was not. Allthat disturbed his happiness he reproached as enemies to his repose, and at last made her feign an illness, that no visits might be madeher, and that he might possess all her hours. Nor did _Hermione_perceive all this without making her advantages of so glorious anopportunity; but, with the usual cunning of her sex, improved everyminute she gave him: she now found herself sure of the heart of thefinest man in the world; and of one she believed would prove thegreatest, being the head of a most powerful faction, who wereresolved, the first opportunity, to order affairs so as to come to anopen rebellion, and to make him a king. All these things, how unlikelysoever in reason, her love and ambition suggested to her; so that shebelieved she had but one game more to play, to establish herself thegreatest and most happy woman in the world. She consults in thisweighty affair, with her mother, who had a share of cunning that couldcarry on a design as well as any of her sex. They found but oneobstacle to all _Hermione_'s rising greatness; and that was thePrince's being married; and that to a lady of so considerable birthand fortune, so eminent for her virtue, and all perfections ofwomankind, and withal so excellent for wit and beauty, that it wasimpossible to find any cause of a separation between them. So thatfinding it improbable to remove that let to her glories, she grew verymelancholy, which was soon perceived by the too amorous Prince, whopleads, and sighs, and weeps on her bosom day and night to find thecause: but she, who found she had a difficult game to play, and thatshe had need of all her little aids, pretends a thousand littlefrivolous reasons before she discovers the true one; which served butto oblige him to ask anew, as she designed he should----At last, onemorning, finding him in the softest fit in the world, and ready togive her whatever she could ask in return for the secret of herdisquiet, she told him with a sigh, how unhappy she was in loving soviolently a man who could never be any thing to her more than therobber of her honour: and at last, with abundance of sighs and tears, bewailed his marriage----He taking her with all the joy imaginable inhis arms, thanked her for speaking of the only thing he had a thousandtimes been going to offer to her, but durst not for fear she shouldreproach him. He told her he looked upon himself as married to nowoman but herself, to whom by a thousand solemn vows he had contractedhimself, and that he would never own any other while he lived, letfortune do what she pleased with him. _Hermione_, thriving hitherto sowell, urged his easy heart yet farther, and told him, though she hadleft no doubt remaining in her of his love and virtue, no suspicion ofhis vows, yet the world would still esteem the Princess his wife, andherself only as a prostitute to his youthful pleasure; and as sheconceived her birth and fortune not to be much inferior to that of thePrincess, she should die with indignation and shame, to bear all thereproach of his wantonness, while his now wife would live esteemed andpitied as an injured innocent. To all which he replied, as mad inlove, that the Princess, he confessed, was a lady to whom he hadobligations, but that he esteemed her no more his wife, since he wasmarried to her at the age of twelve years; an age, wherein he was notcapacitated to choose good or evil, or to answer for himself, or hisinclinations: and though she were a lady of absolute virtue, of youth, wit and beauty; yet fate had so ordained it, that he had reserved hisheart to this moment entirely for herself; and that he renounced allpretenders to him except herself; that he had now possessed thePrincess for the space of twenty years; that youth had a long race torun, and could not take up at those years with one single beauty: thathitherto ravage and destruction of hearts had been his province andglory, and that he thought he never lost time but when he was a littlewhile constant: but now he was fixed to all he would ever possesswhilst he had breath; and that she was both his mistress and his wife;his eternal happiness, and the end of all his loving. It is there hesaid he would remain as in his first state of innocence: that hithertohis ambition had been above his passion, but that now his heart was soentirely subdued to this fair charmer (for so he call'd and thoughther) that he could be content to live and die in the glory of beinghers alone, without wishing for liberty or empire, but to render hermore glorious. A thousand things tender and fond he said to thispurpose, and the result of all ended in most solemn vows, that if everfortune favoured him with a crown, he would fix it on her head, andmake her in spite of all former ties and obligations, Queen of_France_. This was sufficient to appease her sighs and tears, and sheremained entirely satisfied of his vows, which were exchanged beforeMadam the Countess, and confirmed by all the binding obligations, loveon his side could invent, and ambition and subtlety on hers. When Icame at any time to visit him, which by stealth a-nights sometimes Idid, to take orders from him how I should act in all things, (though Ilay concealed like himself) he would tell me all that had passedbetween him and _Hermione_. I suppose, not so much for the reposingthe secret in my breast, as out of a fond pleasure to be repeatingpassages of his dotage, and repeating her name, which was ever in hismouth: I saw she had reduced him to a great degree of slavery, andcould not look tamely on, while a hero so young, so gay, so great, andso hopeful, lay idling away his precious time, without doing anything, either in order for his own safety or ambition. It was, mylord, a great pity to see how his noble resolution was changed, andhow he was perfectly effeminated into soft woman. I endeavoured atfirst to rouse him from this lethargy of love; and argued with him thelittle reason, that in my opinion he had to be so charmed. I told him, _Hermione_, of all the beauties of _France_, was esteemed one of themeanest, and that if ever she had gained a conquest (as many she wasinfamously famed for) it was purely the force of her youth andquality; but that now that bloom was past, and she was one of those, which in less quality we called old. At these reproaches of hisjudgement, I often perceived him to blush, but more with anger thanshame. Yet because, according to the vogue of the town, he found therewas reason in what I said, and which he could only contradict bysaying, however she was, she appeared all otherwise to him: he blamedme a little kindly for my hard words against her, and began to swearto me, that he thought her all over charm. He vowed there was absolutefascination in her eyes and tongue. "It is confessed, " said he, "shehas not much of youth, nor of that which we agree to call beauty: butshe has a grace so masculine, an air so ravishing, a wit and humour soabsolutely made to charm, that they all together sufficientlyrecompense for her want of delicacy in complexion and feature: and ina word, my _Tomaso_, " cries he, embracing me, "she is, though I knownot what, or how, a maid that compels me to adore her; she has anatural power to please above the rest of her dull sex; and I canabate her a face and shape, and yet vie her for beauty, with any ofthe celebrated ones of _France_. "

'I found, by the manner of his saying this, that he was reallycharmed, and past all retrieve, bewitched to this lady. I found itvain therefore to press him to a separation, or to lessen his passion, but on the contrary told him, there was a time for all things; if fatehad so ordained it that he must love. But I besought him, with all theeloquence of perfect duty and friendship, not to suffer his passion tosurmount his ambition and his reason, so far as to neglect hisinterest and safety; and for a little pleasure with a woman, sufferall his friends to perish, that had woven their fortunes with his, andmust stand or fall, as he thrived: I implored him not to cast away the_good cause_, which was so far advanced, and that yet, notwithstandingthis discourse, might all be retrieved by his conduct, and goodmanagement, that I knew however the King appeared in outward shew tobe offended, that it was yet in his power to calm the greatest tempestthis discovery had raised: that it was but casting himself at HisMajesty's feet, and begging his mercy, by a confession of the truth ofsome part of the matter; and that it was impossible he could fail of apardon, from so indulgent a monarch, as he had offended: that therewas no action could wholly rase out of the King's heart, thattenderness and passion he had ever expressed towards him; and hispeace might be made with all the facility imaginable. To this he urgeda very great reluctancy, and cried, he would sooner die, than by aconfession expose the lives of his friends, and let the world seetheir whole design before they had power to effect it: and not onlyso, but put it past all their industry, ever to bring so hopeful aplot about again. At this I smiled, and asked His Highness's pardon, told him I was of another opinion, as most of the heads of the_Huguenots_ were, that what he said to His Majesty in private couldnever possibly be made public: that His Majesty would content himselfwith the knowledge of the truth, without caring to satisfy the world, so greatly to the prejudice of a prince of the blood, and a man sovery dear to him as himself. He urged the fears this would give thoseof the Reformed Religion, and alarm them with a thousandapprehensions, that it would discover every man of them, byunravelling the intrigue. To this I replied, that their fears would bevery short-lived; for as soon as he had, by his submission andconfession, gained his pardon, he had no more to do, but to renounceall he had said, leave the Court, and put himself into the protectionof his friends, who were ready to receive him. That he need but appearabroad a little time, and he would see himself addressed to again, byall the _Huguenot_ party, who would quickly put him into a conditionof fearing nothing. 

'My counsel, with the same persuasion from all of quality of theparty, who came to see him, was at last approved of by him, and hebegan to say a thousand things to assure me of his fidelity to hisfriends, and the faction, which he vowed never to forsake, for anyother interest, but to stand or fall in its defence, and that he wasresolved to be a king, or nothing; and that he would put in practiceall the arts and stratagems of cunning, as well as force, to attain tothis glorious end, however crooked and indirect they might appear tofools. However, he conceived the first necessary step to this, was thegetting his pardon, to gain a little time, to manage things anew tothe best advantage: that at present all things were at a stand withoutlife or motion, wanting the sight of himself, who was the very lifeand soul of motion, the axle-tree that could turn the wheel of fortuneround about again. 

'And now he had talked himself in to sense again; he cried--"Oh my_Tomaso_! I long to be in action, my soul is on the wing, and ready totake its flight through any hazard----" but sighing on a sudden, againhe cried: "But oh, my friend, my wings are impt by love, I cannotmount the regions of the air, and thence survey the world; but still, as I would rise to mightier glory, they flag to humble love, and fixme there. Here I am charmed to lazy, soft repose, here it is I smileand play, and love away my hours: but I will rouse, I will, my dear_Tomaso_; nor shall the winged boy hold me enslaved: believe me, friend, he shall not. " He sent me away pleased with this, and I lefthim to his repose. '

Supper being ready to come upon the table; though _Philander_ wereimpatient to hear the story out, yet he would not press _Tomaso_, tillafter supper; in which time, they discoursed of nothing but of themiracles of _Cesario_'s love to _Hermione_. He could not but wonder aprince so young, so amorous, and so gay, should return again, afteralmost fifteen years, to an old mistress, and who had never been inher youth a celebrated beauty: one, whom it was imagined the King, andseveral after him at Court, had made a gallantry with----On this hepaused for some time, and reflected on his passion for _Sylvia_; andthis fantastic intrigue of the Prince's inspired him with a kind ofcuriosity to try, whether fleeting love, would carry him back again tothis abandoned maid. In these thoughts, and such discourse, theypassed away the time during supper; which ended, and a fresh bottlebrought to the table, with a new command that none should interruptthem, the impatient _Philander_ obliged _Tomaso_ to give him a fartheraccount of the Prince's proceedings; which he did in this manner. 

'My lord, having left the Prince, as I imagined very well resolved, Ispoke of it to as many of our party, as I could conveniently meetwith, to prepare them for the discovery, I believed the Prince wouldpretend to make, that they should not by being alarmed at the firstnews of it, put themselves into fears, that might indeed discoverthem: nor would I suffer _Cesario_ to rest, but daily saw him, orrather nightly stole to him, to keep up his resolution: and indeed, inspite of love, to which he had made himself so entire a slave, Ibrought him to his own house, to visit Madam his wife, who was verywell at Court, maugre her husband's ill conduct, as they called it;the King being, as you know, my lord, extremely kind to that deservinglady, often made her visits, and would without very great impatiencyhear her plead for her husband, the Prince; and possibly it was notungrateful to him: all this we daily learned from a page, who secretlybrought intelligence from Madam the Princess: so that we conceived itwholly necessary for the interest of the Prince, that he should livein a good understanding with this prudent lady. To this end, hefeigned more respect than usual to her, and as soon as it was dark, every evening made her his visits. One evening, amongst the rest, hehappened to be there, just as the proclamation came forth, of fourthousand crowns to any that could discover him; and within half anhour after came the King, to visit the Princess, as every night hedid; her lodging being in the Court: the King came without giving anynotice, and with a very slender train that night; so that he wasalmost in the Princess's bed-chamber before any body informed her hewas there; so that the Prince had no time to retire but into Madam thePrincess's cabaret, the door of which she immediately locking, madesuch a noise and bustle, that it was heard by His Majesty, whonevertheless had passed it by, if her confusion and blushes had notfarther betrayed her, with the unusual address she made to the King:who therefore asked her, who she had concealed in her closet. Sheendeavoured to put him off with some feigned replies, but it would notdo; the more her confusion, the more the King was inquisitive, andurged her to give him the key of her _cabaret_: but she, who knew thelife of the Prince would be in very great danger, should he be takenso, and knew on the other side, that to deny it, would betray thetruth as much as his discovery would, and cause him either to forcethe key, or the door, fell down at his feet, and wetting his shoeswith her tears, and grasping his knees with her trembling arms, implored that mercy and pity, for the Prince her husband, whom hervirtue had rendered dear to her, however criminal he appeared to HisMajesty: she told him, His Majesty had more peculiarly the attributesof a god, than any other monarch upon earth, and never heard thewretched or the innocent plead in vain. She told him, that herself, and her children, who were dearer to her than life, should all be ashostages for the good conduct and duty of the Prince's future life andactions: and they would all be obliged to suffer any death, thoughever so ignominious, upon the least breaking out of her lord: that heshould utterly abandon those of the Reformed Religion, and yield towhat articles His Majesty would graciously be pleased to impose, quitting all his false and unreasonable pretensions to the crown, which was only the effects of the flattery of the _Huguenot_ party, and the _malcontents_. Thus with the virtue and goodness of an angel, she pleaded with such moving eloquence, mixed with tears frombeautiful eyes, that she failed not to soften the royal heart, whoknew not how to be deaf when beauty pleaded: yet he would not seem toyield so suddenly, lest it should be imagined he had too light a senseof his treasons, which, in any other great man, would have beenpunished with no less than death: yet, as she pleaded, he grew calmer, and suffered it without interruption, till she waited for his reply;and obliged him by her silence to speak. He numbers up the obligationshe had heaped on her husband; how he had, by putting all places ofgreat command and interest into his hands, made him the greatestprince, and favourite of a subject, in the world; and infinitelyhappier than a monarch: that he had all the glory and power of one, and wanted but the care: all the sweets of empire, while all that wasdisagreeable and toilsome, remained with the title alone. He thereforeupbraided him with infinite ingratitude, and want of honour; with allthe folly of ambitious youth: and left nothing unsaid that might makethe Princess sensible it was too late to hide any of his treasons fromhim, since they were all but too apparent to His Majesty. It wastherefore that she urged nothing but his royal mercy, and forgiveness, without endeavouring to lessen his guilt, or enlarge on his innocency. In fine, my lord, so well she spoke, that at last, she had the joy toperceive the happy effects of her wit and goodness, which had movedtears of pity and compassion from His Majesty's eyes; which was_Cesario_'s cue to come forth, as immediately he did, (having heardall that had passed) and threw himself at His Majesty's feet: and thiswas the critical minute he was to snatch for the gaining of his point, and of which he made a most admirable use. He called up all the forceof necessary dissimulation, tenderness to his voice, tears to hiseyes, and trembling to his hands, that stayed the too willing andmelting monarch by his robe, till he had heard him implore, andgranted him his pity: nor did he quit his hold, till the King cried, with a soft voice--"Rise"--at which he was assured of what he asked. He refused however to rise, till the pardon was pronounced. He ownedhimself the greatest criminal in nature; that he was drawn from hisallegiance by the most subtle artifices of his enemies, who underfalse friendships had allured his hopes with gilded promises; andwhich he now too plainly saw were designed to propagate their ownprivate interests, and not his glory. He humbly besought His Majestyto make some gracious allowances for his vanities of youth, and tobelieve now he had so dearly bought discretion, at almost the price ofHis Majesty's eternal displeasure, that he would reform, and lead sogood a life, so absolutely free from any appearance of ambition, thatHis Majesty should see he had not a more faithful subject thanhimself. In fine, he found himself, by this acknowledgement he hadbegun with, to advance yet further: nor would His Majesty be satisfiedwithout the whole scene of the matter; and how they were to havesurprised and seized him; where, and by what numbers. All which he wasforced to give an account of; since now to have fallen back, when hewas in their hands, had been his infallible ruin. All which heperformed with as much tenderness and respect to his friendsconcerned, as if his own life had been depending: and though he wereextremely pressed to discover some of the great ones of the party, hewould never give his consent to an action so mean, as to be anevidence. All that could be got from him farther, was to promise HisMajesty, to give under his hand, what he had in private confessed tohim; with which the King remained very well satisfied, and ordered himto come to Court the next day. Thus for that night they parted withinfinite caresses on the King's part, and no little joy on his. HisMajesty was no sooner gone, but he gave immediate order to theSecretaries of State, to draw up his pardon, which was done with sogood speed, that he had it in his hands the next day. When he came toCourt, it is not to be imagined the surprise it was to all, to beholdthe man, in the greatest state imaginable, who but yesterday was tohave been crucified at any price: and those who most exclaimed againsthim, were the first that paid him homage, and caressed him at thehighest rate; only the most wise and judicious prophesied his glorieswere not of long continuation. The King made no visits where thePrince did not publicly appear: he told all the people, with infinitejoy, that the Prince had confessed the whole plot, and that he wouldgive it, under his hand and seal, in order to have it publishedthroughout all _France_, for the satisfaction of all those who hadbeen deluded and deceived by our specious pretences; and for theterror of those, who had any ways adhered to so pernicious a villainy:so that he met with nothing but reproaches from those of our own partyat Court: for there were many, who hitherto were unsuspected, and whonow, out of fear of being betrayed by the Prince, were ready to fallat the King's feet and confess all: others there were, that left theCourt and town upon it. In fine, the face of things seemed extremelyaltered, while the Prince bore himself like a person who had themisfortune justly to lie beneath the exclamations of a disobligedmultitude, as they at least imagined and bore all, as if their fearshad been true, without so much as offering at his justification, toconfirm His Majesty's good opinion of him: he added to his pardon, apresent of twenty thousand crowns, half of it being paid the next dayafter his coming to Court. And in short, my lord, His Majesty grew sofond of the Prince, he could not endure to suffer him out of hispresence, and was never satisfied with seeing him: he carried him thenext day to the public _theatre_ with him, to shew the world he wasreconciled. But by this time he had all confirmed, and grew impatientto declare himself to his friends, whom he would not have remain longin their ill opinion of him. It happened the third day of his comingto Court, (in returning some of those visits he had received from allthe great persons) he went to wait upon the Duchess of ---- a lady, who had ever had a tender respect for the Prince: in the time of thisvisit, a young lady of quality happened to come in; one whom yourlordship knows, a great wit, and much esteemed at Court, _MademoiselleMariana_: by this lady he found himself welcomed to Court, with allthe demonstrations of joy; as also by the old Duchess, who had diverstimes heretofore persuaded the Prince to leave the _Huguenots_, andreturn to the King and Court: she used to tell him he was a handsomeyouth, and she loved his mother well; that he danced finely, and shehad rather see him in a ball at Court, than in rebellion in the field;and often to this purpose her love would rally him; and now shewed noless concern of joy for his reconciliation; and looking on him as atrue convert, fell a railing, with all the malice and wit she couldinvent, at those public-spirited knaves who had seduced him. Sherailed on, and cursed those politics which had betrayed him to almostruin itself. 

'The Prince heard her with all the patience he could for some time, but when he found her touch him so tenderly, and name his friends asif he had owned any such ill counsellors, his colour came in his face, and he could not forbear defending us with all the force offriendship. He told her, he knew of no such seducers, no villains ofthe party, nor of any traitorous design, that either himself, or anyman in _France_, had ever harboured: at which, she going to upbraidhim in a manner too passionate, he thought it decent to end his visit, and left her very abruptly. At his going out, he met with the Duke of---- brother to the Duchess, going to visit her: _en passant_, a veryindifferent ceremony passed on both sides, for this Duke never hadentertained a friendship, or scarce a respect for _Cesario_; but goinginto his sister's the Duchess, her chamber, he found her all in a rageat the Prince's so public defence of the _Huguenots_ and their allies;and the Duke entering, they told him what had passed. This was a verygreat pleasure to him, who had a mortal hate at this time to thePrince. He made his visit very short, hastens to Court, and wentdirectly to the King, and told him how infinitely he found His Majestymistaken in the imagined penitence of the Prince; and then told himwhat he had said at the Duchess of ---- lodgings, and had disowned, heever confessed any treasonable design against His Majesty, and gavethem the lie, who durst charge him with any such villainy. The King, who was unwilling to credit what he wished not true, plainly told theDuke he could not believe it, but that it was the malice of hisenemies, who had forged this: the Duke replied, he would bring thoseto His Majesty that heard the words: immediately thereupon dispatchedaway his page to beg the Duchess would come to Court, with_Mademoiselle Mariana_. The Duchess suspecting the truth of thebusiness, and unwilling to do the Prince an ill office, excusedherself by sending word she was ill of the colic. But _Mariana_, wholoved the King's interest, and found the ingratitude, as she calledit, of the Prince, hastened in her chair to Court, and justified allthe Duke had said; who being a woman of great wit and honour, foundthat credit which the Duke failed of, as an open enemy to the Prince. About an hour after, the Prince appeared at Court, and found the faceof things changed extremely; and those, who before had kissed hishand, and were proud of every smile from him, now beheld him withcoldness, and scarce made way as he passed. However, he went to thePresence, and found the King, whose looks were also very much changed;who taking him into the bed-chamber, shewed him his whole confession, drawn up ready for him to sign, as he had promised, though he neverintended any such thing; and now resolved to die rather than do it, hetook it in his hand, while the King cried--"Here keep your word, andsign your narrative--" "Stay, sir, " replied the Prince, "I have thecounsel of my friends to ask in so weighty an affair. " The King, confirmed in all he had heard, no longer doubted but he had been toocunning for him; and going out in a very great discontent, he onlycried--"Sir, if you have any better friends than myself, I leave youto them;----" and with this left him. The Prince was very glad he hadgot the confession-paper, hoping it would never come to light again;the King was the only person to whom he had made the confession, andhe was but one accuser; and him he thought the party could at any timebe too powerful to oppose, all being easily believed on their side, and nothing on that of the Court. After this, in the evening, the Kinggoing to visit Madam the Duchess of----for whom he had a very greatesteem, and whither every day the whole Court followed him; thePrince, with all the assurance imaginable, made his Court there also;but he was no sooner come into the Presence, but he perceived anger inthe eyes of that monarch, who had indeed a peculiar greatness andfierceness there, when angry: a minute after, he sent Monsieur----tothe Prince, with a command to leave the Court; and without muchceremony he accordingly departed, and went directly to _Hermione_, whowith all the impatience of love expected him; nor was much surprisedto find him banished the Court: for he made her acquainted with hismost secret designs; who having made all his interests her own, espoused whatever related to him, and was capable of retaining allwith great fidelity: nor had he quitted her one night, since hiscoming to Court; and he hath often with rapture told me, _Hermione_was a friend, as well as a mistress, and one with whom, when the firstplay was ended, he could discourse with of useful things of State aswell as love; and improve in both the noble mysteries by her charmingconversation. The night of this second disgrace I went to _Hermione_'sto visit him, where we discoursed what was next to be done. He did notthink his pardon was sufficient to secure him, and he was not willingto trust a King who might be convinced, that that tenderness he hadfor him, was absolutely against the peace and quiet of all _France_. Iwas of this opinion, so that upon farther debate, we thought itabsolutely necessary to quit _France_, till the Court's heat should bea little abated; and that the King might imagine himself by hisabsence, in more tranquillity than he really is. In order to this, hemade me take my flight into _Flanders_, here to provide all thingsnecessary against his coming, and I received his command to seek youout, and beg you would attend his coming hither. I expect him everyday. He told me at parting, he longed to consult with you, how next toplay this mighty game, on which so many kingdoms are staked, and whichhe is resolved to win, or be nothing. ' 'An imperfect relation, 'replied _Philander_, 'we had of this affair, but I never could learnby what artifice the Prince brought about his good fortune at Court;but of your own escape I have heard nothing, pray oblige me with therelation of it. ' 'Sir, ' said _Tomaso_, 'there is so little worthy thetrouble you will take in hearing it, that you may spare yourself thecuriosity. ' 'Sir, ' replied Philander, 'I always had too great a sharein what concerned you, not to be curious of the story. ' 'In which, 'replied _Tomaso_, 'though there be nothing novel, I will satisfy you. '

'Be pleased to know, my lord, that about a week before our design wasfully discovered by some of our own under-rogues, I had taken a greathouse in _Faubourg St Germain_, for my mistress, whom you know, mylord, I had lived with the space of a year. She was gone to drink thewaters of _Bourbon_, for some indisposition, and I had promised herall things should be fitted against her return, agreeable to herhumour and desire; and indeed, I spared no cost to make her apartmentmagnificent: and I believe few women of quality could purchase one sorich; for I loved the young woman, who had beauty and discretionenough to charm, though the _Parisians_ of the royal party called her_Nicky Nacky_, which was given her in derision to me, not to her, forwhom every body, for her own sake, had a considerable esteem. Besides, my lord, I had taken up money out of the Orphans' and Widows' Bank, from the Chamber of _Paris_, and could very well afford to be lavish, when I spent upon the public stock. While I was thus ordering allthings, my valet came running out of breath, to tell me, that being atthe _Louvre_, he saw several persons carried to the secretary'soffice, with messengers; and that inquiring who they might be, hefound they were two _Parisians_, who had offered themselves to themessengers to be carried to be examined about a plot, the Prince_Cesario_ and those of the Reformed Religion, had to surprise HisMajesty, kill Monsieur his brother, and set all _Paris_ in a flame:and as to what particularly related to myself, he said, that I wasnamed as the person designed to seize upon the King's guards, anddispatch Monsieur. This my own conscience told me was too true, for meto make any doubt but I was discovered: I therefore left a servant inthe house, and in a hackney-coach took my flight. I drove a little outof _Paris_ till night, and then returned again, as the surest part ofthe world where I could conceal myself: I was not long in studying whoI should trust with my life and safety, but went directly to thepalace of Madam, the Countess of----who you know, my lord, was awidow, and a woman who had, for a year past, a most violent passionfor me; but she being a lady, who had made many such gallantries, andpast her youth, I had only a very great respect and acknowledgementfor her, and her quality, and being obliged to her, for the effects ofher tenderness, shewn upon several occasions, I could not but acquitmyself like a _cavalier_ to her, whenever I could possibly; and which, though I have a thousand times feigned great business to prevent, yetI could not always be ungrateful; and when I paid her my services, itwas ever extremely well received, and because of her quality, andsetting up for a second marriage, she always took care to make myapproaches to her, in as concealed a manner as possible; and only herporter, one page, and one woman, knew this secret amour; and for thebetter carrying it on, I ever went in a hackney-coach, lest my liveryshould be seen at her gate: and as it was my custom at other times, so I now sent the porter, (who, by my bounty, and his lady's, wasentirely my own creature) for the page to come to me, who immediatelydid, and I desired him to let his lady know, I waited her commands;that was the word: he immediately brought me answer, that by goodfortune his lady was all alone, and infinitely wishing she knewwhere to send him for me: and I immediately, at that good news, ranup to her chamber; where I was no sooner come, but desiring me tosit, she ordered her porter to be called, and gave orders, upon painof life, not to tell of my being in the house, whatever inquiryshould be made after me; and having given the same command to herpage, she dismissed them, and came to me with all the fear andtrembling imaginable. "Ah Monsieur, " cried she, falling on myneck, "we are undone--" I, not imagining she had heard the newsalready, cried, "Why, is my passion discovered?" "Ah, " replied she intears, "I would to heaven it were no worse! would all the earth haddiscovered that, which I should esteem my glory--But it is, mycharming monsieur, " continued she, "your treasons and not amour, whosediscovery will be so fatal to me. " At this I seemed amazed, and beggedher, to let me understand her: she told me what I have said before;and moreover, that the Council had that very evening issued outwarrants for me, and she admired how I escaped. After a littlediscourse of this kind, I asked her, what she would advise me to do?for I was very well assured, the violent hate the King hadparticularly for me, would make him never consent I should live on anyterms: and therefore it was determined I should not surrender myself;and she resolved to run the risk of concealing me; which, in fine, shedid three days, furnishing me with money and necessaries for myflight. In this time a proclamation came forth, and offered fivehundred crowns for my head, or to seize me alive, or dead. This sum sowrought with the slavish minds of men, that no art was left unassayedto take me: they searched all houses, all hackney-coaches that passedby night; and did all that avarice could inspire to take me, but allin vain: at last, this glorious sum so dazzled the mind of Madam theCountess's porter, that he went to a captain of the Musketeers, andassured him, if the King would give him the aforesaid sum, he wouldbetray me, and bring him the following night to surprise me, withoutany resistance: the captain, who thought, if the porter should haveall the sum, he should get none; and every one hoping to be the happyman, that should take me, and win the prize, could not endure anothershould have the glory of both, and so never told the King of the offerthe porter had made. But however secret, one may imagine an amour tobe kept, yet in so busy a place as _Paris_ and the apartments of theCourt-coquets, this of ours had been discoursed, and the intrigue morethan suspected: whether this, or the captain, before named, imaginedto find me at the house of the Countess, because the porter had madesuch an offer; I say, however it was, the next morning, upon a_Sunday_, the guards broke into several chambers, and missing me, hadthe insolence to come to the door of that of the Countess; and she hadonly time to slip on her night-gown, and running to the door besoughtthem to have respect to her sex and quality, while I started from mybed, which was the same from whence the Countess rose; and not knowingwhere to hide, or what to do, concealing my clothes between thesheets, I mounted from the table to a great silver sconce that wasfastened to the wall by the bed-side, and from thence made but onespring up to the tester of the bed; which being one of those raisedwith strong wood-work and japan, I could easily do; or, rather it wasby miracle I did it; and laid myself along the top, while my backtouched the ceiling of the chamber; by this time, when no entreatiescould prevail, they had burst open the chamber-door, and runningdirectly to the bed, they could not believe their eyes: they saw noperson there, but the plain print of two, with the pillows for twopersons. This gave them the curiosity to search farther, which theydid, with their swords, under the bed, in every corner, behind everycurtain, up the chimney, felt all about the wainscot and hangings forfalse doors or closets; surveyed the floor for a trap-door: at lastthey found my fringed gloves at the window, and the sash a little up, and then they concluded I had made my escape out at that window: thisthought they seemed confirmed in, and therefore ran to the garden, where they thought I had descended, and with my gloves, which theybore away as the trophies of their almost gained victory, theysearched every hedge and bush, arbour, grotto, and tree; but not beingable to find what they sought, they concluded me gone, and told allthe town, how very near they were to seizing me. After this, the veryporter and page believed me escaped out of that window, and there wasno farther search made after me: but the Countess was amazed, as muchas any of the soldiers, to find which way I had conveyed myself, whenI came down and undeceived her; but when she saw from whence I came, she wondered more than before how I could get up so high; when tryingthe trick again, I could not do it, if I might have won never soconsiderable a wager upon it, without pulling down the sconce, and thetester also. 

'After this, I remained there undiscovered the whole time the Princewas at _Hermione_'s, till his coming to Court, when I verily believedhe would have gained me my pardon, with his own; but the King hadsworn my final destruction, if he ever got me in his power; andproclaiming me a traitor, seized all they could find of mine. It wasthen that I believed it high time to take my flight; which, as soon asI heard the Prince again in disgrace, I did, and got safely into_Holland_, where I remained about six weeks. But, oh! what is woman!The first news I heard, and that was while I remained at theCountess's that my mistress, for whom I had taken such cares and whohad professed to love me above all things, no sooner heard I was fledand proscribed, but retiring to a friend's house, (for her own wasseized for mine) and the officers imagining me there too, they came tosearch; and a young _cavalier_, of a noble aspect, great wit andcourage, and indeed a very fine gentleman, was the officer thatentered her chamber, to search for me; who, being at first sightsurprised with her beauty, and melting with her tears, fell mostdesperately in love with her, and after hearing how she had lost allher money, plate, and jewels, and rich furniture, offered her hisservice to retrieve them, and did do it; and from one favour toanother, continued so to oblige the fair fickle creature, that he won, with that and his handsome mien, a possession of her heart, and sheyielded in a week's time to my most mortal enemy. And the Countess, who at my going from her, swooned, and bathed me all in tears, makinga thousand vows of fidelity, and never to favour mankind more: thisvery woman, sir, as soon as my back was turned, made new advances to ayoung lord, who, believing her to be none of the most faithful, wouldnot trust her under matrimony: he being a man of no great fortune, andshe a mistress of a very considerable one, his standing off on theseterms inflames her the more; and I have advice, that she is very muchin love with him, and it is believed will do what he desires of her:so that I was no sooner abandoned by fortune, but fickle womanfollowed her example, and fled me too. Thus, my lord, you have thehistory of my double unhappiness: and I am waiting here a fate whichno human wit can guess at: the arrival of the Prince will give alittle life to our affair; and I yet have hope to see him in _Paris_, at the head of forty thousand _Huguenots_, to revenge all theinsolences we have suffered. '

After discoursing of several things, and of the fate of severalpersons, it was bed-time; and they taking leave, each man departed tohis chamber. 

_Philander_, while he was undressing, being alone with _Brilliard_, began to discourse of _Sylvia_, and to take some care of letting herknow, he was arrived at _Brussels_; and for her convoy thither. _Brilliard_, who even yet retained some unaccountable hope, as loversdo, of one day being happy with that fair one; and believing he couldnot be so, with so much felicity, while she was in the hands of_Octavio_ as those of _Philander_, would never tell his lord hissentiments of her conduct, nor of her love to _Octavio_, and thoseother passages that had occurred in _Holland_: he only cried, hebelieved she might be overcome, being left to herself and by themerits and good fashion of _Octavio_; but would not give his master anabsolute fear, or any account of truth, that he might live with heragain, if possible, as before; and that she might hold herself soobliged to him for silence in these affairs, as might one day renderhim happy. These were the unweighed reasons he gave for deluding hislord into a kind opinion to the fickle maid: but ever when he named_Sylvia_, _Philander_ could perceive his blushes rise, and from thembelieved there was something behind in his thought, which he had amind to know: he therefore pressed him to the last degree, --andcried--'Come--confess to me, _Brilliard_, the reason of your blushes:I know you are a lover, and I was content to suffer you my rival, knowing your respect to me. ' This, though he spoke smiling, raised agreater confusion in _Brilliard_'s heart. 'I own, my lord, ' said he, 'that I have, in spite of that respect, and all the force of my soul, had the daring to love her whom you loved; but still the considerationof my obligations to your lordship surmounted that saucy flame, notwithstanding all the encouragement of your inconstancy, and theadvantage of the rage it put Sylvia in against you. ' 'How, ' cried_Philander_, 'does _Sylvia_ know then of my falseness, and is itcertain that _Octavio_ has betrayed me to her?' With that _Brilliard_was forced to advance, and with a design of some revenge upon_Octavio_, (who, he hoped, would be challenged by his lord, where one, or both might fall in the rencounter, and leave him master of hishopes) he told him all that had passed between them, all but realpossession, which he only imagined, but laid the whole weight on_Octavio_, making _Sylvia_ act but as an incensed woman, purely out ofhigh revenge and resentment of so great an injury as was done herlove. He farther told him, how, in the extravagancy of her rage, shehad resolved to marry _Octavio_, and how he prevented it by making apublic declaration she was his wife already; and for which _Octavio_procured the _States_ to put him in prison; but by an accident thathappened to the uncle of _Octavio_, for which he was forced to fly, the _States_ released him, when he came to his lord: 'How, ' cried_Philander_, 'and is the traitor _Octavio_ fled from _Holland_, andfrom the reach of my chastisement?' 'Yes, ' replied _Brilliard_; 'andnot to hold you longer from the truth, has forced _Sylvia_ away withhim. ' At this _Philander_ grew into a violent rage, sometimes against_Octavio_ for his treasons against friendship; sometimes he felt theold flame revive, raised and blown jealousy, and was raving to imagineany other should possess the lovely _Sylvia_. He now beholds her withall those charms that first fired him, and thinks, if she be criminal, it was only the effects of the greatest love, which always hurrieswomen on to the highest revenges. In vain he seeks to extinguish hisreturning flame by the thought of _Calista_; yet, at that thought, hestarts like one awakened from a dream of honour, to fall asleep again, and dream of love. Before it was rage and pride, but now it wastenderness and grief, softer passions, and more insupportable. Newwounds smart most, but old ones are most dangerous. While he was thusraging, walking, pausing, and loving, one knocked at his chamber-door. It was _Sylvia_'s page, who had waited all the evening to speak tohim, and could not till now be admitted. _Brilliard_ was just going totell him he was there before, when he arrived now again: _Philander_was all unbuttoned, his stockings down, and his hair under his cap, when the page, being let in by _Brilliard_, ran to his lord, who knewhim and embraced him: and it was a pretty while they thus caressedeach other, without the power of speaking; he of asking a question, and the boy of delivering his message; at last, he gave him _Sylvia_'sbillet, which was thus--

_To_ PHILANDER. 

False and perjured as you are, I languish for a sight of you, andconjure you to give it me, as soon as this comes to your hands. Imagine not, that I have prepared those instruments of revenge thatare so justly due to your perfidy; but rather, that I have yet tootender sentiments for you, in spite of the outrage you have done myheart; and that for all the ruin you have made, I still adore you: andthough I know you now another's slave, yet I beg you would vouchsafeto behold the spoils you have made, and allow me this recompense forall, to say--Here was the beauty I once esteemed, though now she is nomore _Philander_'s

SYLVIA. 

'How, ' cried he out, 'No more _Philander_'s _Sylvia_! By heaven, I hadrather be no more _Philander_!' And at that word, without consideringwhether he were in order for a visit or not, he advancing his joyfulvoice, cried out to the page, 'Lead on, my faithful boy, lead on to_Sylvia_. ' In vain _Brilliard_ beseeches him to put himself into abetter equipage; in vain he urges to him, the indecency of making avisit in that posture; he thought of nothing but _Sylvia_; however heran after him with his hat, cloak, and comb, and as he was in thechair dressed his hair, and suffered the page to conduct him where hepleased: which being to _Sylvia_'s, lodgings, he ran up stairs, andinto her chamber, as by instinct of love, and found her laid on herbed, to which he made but one step from the door; and catching her inhis arms, as he kneeled upon the carpet, they both remained unable toutter any thing but sighs: and surely _Sylvia_ never appeared morecharming; she had for a month or two lived at her ease, and hadbesides all the advantage of fine dressing which she had purposely puton, in the most tempting fashion, on purpose to engage him, or ratherto make him see how fine a creature his perfidy had lost him: shefirst broke silence, and with a thousand violent reproaches, seemed asif she would fain break from those arms, which she wished might be toostrong for her force; while he endeavours to appease her as lovers do, protesting a thousand times that there was nothing in that history ofhis amour with _Calista_, but revenge on _Octavio_, who he knew wasmaking an interest in her heart, contrary to all the laws of honourand friendship, (for he had learned, by the reproaches of the LadyAbbess, that _Calista_ was sister to _Octavio_). 'He has had thedaring to confess to me his passion, ' said he, 'for you, and could Ido less in revenge, than to tell him I had one for his sister? I knewby the violent reproaches I ever met with in your letters, though theywere not plainly confessed, that he had played me foul, and discoveredmy feigned intrigue to you; and even this I suffered, to see how faryou could be prevailed with against me. I knew _Octavio_ had charms ofyouth and wit, and that you had too much the ascendant over him, to bedenied any secret you had a mind to draw from him; I knew your naturetoo curious, and your love too inquisitive, not to press him to asight of my letters, which seen must incense you; and this trial Idesignedly made of your faith, and as a return to _Octavio_. ' Thus heflatters, and she believes, because she has a mind to believe; andthus by degrees he softens the listening _Sylvia_; swears his faithwith sighs, and confirms it with his tears, which bedewed her fairbosom, as they fell from his bright dissembling eyes; and yet so wellhe dissembled, that he scarce knew himself that he did so: and sucheffects it wrought on _Sylvia_, that in spite of all her honour andvows engaged to _Octavio_, and horrid protestations never to receiveagain the fugitive to her arms, she suffers all he asks, gives herselfup again to love, and is a second time undone. She regards him as oneto whom she had a peculiar right as the first lover: she was marriedto his love, to his heart; and _Octavio_ appeared the intrudinggallant, that would, and ought to be content with the gleanings of theharvest, _Philander_ should give him the opportunity to take up: andthough, if she had at this very time been put to her sober choice, which she would have abandoned, it would have been _Philander_, as notin so good circumstances at that time to gratify all her extravagancesof expense; but she would not endure to think of losing either: shewas for two reasons covetous of both, and swore fidelity to both, protesting each the only man; and she was now contriving in herthoughts, how to play the jilt most artificially; a help-meet, thoughnatural enough to her sex, she had not yet much essayed, and never tothis purpose: she knew well she should have need of all her cunning inthis affair; for she had to do with men of quality and honour, and toomuch wit to be grossly imposed upon. She knew _Octavio_ loved so well, it would either make her lose him by death, or resenting pride, if sheshould ever be discovered to him to be untrue; and she knew she shouldlose _Philander_ to some new mistress, if he once perceived her false. He asked her a thousand questions concerning _Octavio_, and she seemedto lavish every secret of her soul to her lover; but like a rightwoman, so ordered her discourse, as all that made for her advantageshe declared, and all the rest she concealed. She told him, that thosehopes which her revenge had made her give _Octavio_, had obliged himto present her with such and such fine jewels, such plate, such sums;and in fine, made him understand that all her trophies from thebelieving lover should be laid at his feet, who had conquered herheart: and that now, having enriched herself, she would abandon himwholly to despair. This did not so well satisfy Philander, but that heneeded some greater proofs of her fidelity, fearing all these richpresents were not for a little hope alone; and she failed not givingwhat protestations he desired. 

Thus the night passed away, and in the morning, she knowing he was notvery well furnished with money, gave him the key of her cabinet, whereshe bid him furnish himself with all he wanted; which he did, and lefther, to go take orders about his horses, and other affairs, not soabsolutely satisfied of her virtue, but he feared himself put upon, which the advantage he was likely to reap by the deceit, made him lessconsider, than he would perhaps otherwise have done. He had all thenight a full possession of _Sylvia_, and found in the morning he wasnot so violently concerned as he was over night: it was but arepetition of what he had been feasted with before; it was no newtreat, but, like matrimony, went dully down: and now he found hisheart warm a little more for _Calista_, with which little impatiencehe left _Sylvia_. 

That morning a lady having sent to _Octavio_, to give her anassignation in the park; though he were not curious after beauty, yetbelieving there might be something more in it than merely a lady, hedressed himself and went, which was the reason he made not his visitthat morning, as he used to do, to _Sylvia_, and so was yet ignorantof her ingratitude; while she, on the other side, finding herself morepossessed with vanity than love; for having gained her end, as sheimagined, and a second victory over his heart, in spite of all_Calista_'s charms, she did not so much consider him as before; norwas he so dear to her as she fancied he would have been, before shebelieved it possible to get him any more to her arms; and she found itwas pride and revenge to _Calista_, that made her so fond of endearinghim, and that she should thereby triumph over that haughty rival, whopretended to be so sure of the heart of her hero: and having satisfiedher ambition in that point, she was more pleased than she imagined sheshould be, and could now turn her thoughts again to _Octavio_, whosecharms, whose endearments, and lavish obligations, came anew to hermemory, and made him appear the most agreeable to her genius andhumour, which now leaned to interest more than love; and now shefancies she found _Philander_ duller in her arms than _Octavio_; thathe tasted of _Calista_, while _Octavio_ was all her own entirely, adoring and ever presenting; two excellencies, of which _Philander_now had but part of one. She found _Philander_ now in a condition tobe ever taking from her, while _Octavio_'s was still to be giving;which was a great weight in the scale of love, when a fair womanguides the balance: and now she begins to distrust all that_Philander_ had said of his innocence, from what she now remembers sheheard from _Calista_ herself, and reproaches her own weakness forbelieving: while her penitent thoughts were thus wandering in favourof _Octavio_, that lover arrived, and approached her with all the joyin his soul and eyes that either could express. 'It is now, my faircharmer, ' said he, 'that I am come to offer you what alone can make memore worthy of you----' And pulling from his pocket the writings andinventories of all his own and his uncle's estate--'See here, ' saidhe, 'what those mighty powers that favour love have done for _Sylvia_. It is not, ' continued he, 'the trifle of a million of money, (whichthese amount to) that has pleased me, but because I am now able to layit without control at your feet. ' If she were before inclined toreceive him well, what was she now, when a million of money renderedhim so charming? She embraced his neck with her snowy arms, laid hercheeks to his ravished face, and kissed him a thousand welcomes; sowell she knew how to make herself mistress of all this vast fortune. And I suppose he never appeared so fine, as at this moment. While shethus caressed him, he could not forbear sighing, as if there were yetsomething behind to complete his happiness: for though Octavio wereextremely blinded with love, he had abundance of wit, and a great manydoubts, (which were augmented by the arrival of _Philander_) and hewas, too wise and too haughty, to be imposed upon, at least as hebelieved: and yet he had so very good an opinion of _Sylvia_'s honourand vows, which she had engaged to him, that he durst hardly name hisfears, when by his sighs she found them: and willing to leave noobstacle unremoved, that might hinder her possessing this fortune, shetold him; 'My dear _Octavio_--I am sensible these sighs proceed fromsome fears you have of _Philander_'s being in _Brussels_, andconsequently that I will see him, as heretofore; but be assured, thatthat false man shall no more dare to pretend to me; but, on thecontrary, I will behold him as my mortal enemy, the murderer of myfame and innocence, and as the most ungrateful and perfidious man thatever lived. ' This she confirmed with oaths and tears, and a thousandendearing expressions. So that establishing his heart in a perfecttranquillity, and he leaving his writings and accounts with her, hetold her he was obliged to dine with the advocates, who had acted forhim in _Holland_, and could not stay to dine with her. 

You must know, that as soon as the noise of old _Sebastian_, _Octavio_'s uncle's death was noised about, and that he was thereuponfled, they seized all the estates, both that of the uncle, and that of_Octavio_, as belonging to him by right of law; but looking upon himas his uncle's murderer, they were forfeited to the _States_. Thispart of ill news _Octavio_ kept from _Sylvia_, but took order, thatsuch a process might be begun in his name with the _States_ that mightretrieve it; and sent word, if it could not be carried on by attornies(for he was not, he said, in health) that nevertheless he would comeinto _Holland_ himself. But they being not able to prove, by thewitness of any of _Octavio_'s or _Sebastian_'s servants, that_Octavio_ had any hand in his death; but, on the contrary allcircumstances, and the coroner's verdict, brought it in as a thingdone by accident, and through his own fault, they were obliged torelease to _Octavio_ all his fortune, with that of his uncle, whichwas this day brought to him, by those he was obliged to dine, and makeup some accounts withal: he therefore told her, he feared he should beabsent all that afternoon; which she was the more pleased at, becauseif _Philander_ should return before she had ordered the method oftheir visit, so as not to meet with each other (which was her onlycontrivance now) she should be sure he would not see or be seen by_Octavio_; who had no sooner taken his leave, but _Philander_ returns;who being now fully bent upon some adventure to see _Calista_, ifpossible, and which intrigue would take up his whole time; to excusehis absence to the jealous _Sylvia_, he feigned that he was sent to by_Cesario_, to meet him upon the frontiers of _France_, and conduct himinto _Flanders_, and that he should be absent some days. This was as_Sylvia_ could have wished; and after forcing herself to take as kinda leave of him as she could, whose head was wholly possessed with amillion of gold, she sent him away, both parties being very wellpleased with the artifices with which they jilted each other. At_Philander_'s, going into his chair, he was seen by the old Count of_Clarinau_, who, cured perfectly of his wound, was come thither toseek _Philander_, in order to take the revenge of a man of honour, ashe called it; which in _Spanish_ is the private stab, for privateinjuries; and indeed more reasonable than base _French_ duelling, where the injured is as likely to suffer as the injurer: but_Clarinau_ durst not attack him by day-light in the open street, nordurst he indeed appear in his own figure in the King of _Spain_'sdominions, standing already there convicted of the murder of his firstwife; but in a disguise came to _Brussels_. The chair with _Philander_was no sooner gone from the lodgings, but he inquired of some of thehouse, who lodged there that that gentleman came to visit? And theytold him a great-bellied woman, who was a woman of quality, and astranger: this was sufficient, you may believe, for him to think itMadam the Countess of _Clarinau_. With this assurance he repairs tohis lodging, which was but hard by, and sets a footman that attendedhim to watch the return of _Philander_ to those lodgings, which hebelieved would not be long: the footman, who had not seen _Philander_, only asked a description of him; he told him, he was a pretty tallman, in black clothes (for the Court was then in mourning) with longblack hair, fine black eyes, very handsome, and well made; this wasenough for the lad; he thought he should know him from a thousand bythese marks and tokens. Away goes the footman, and waited till theshutting in of the evening, and then, running to his lord, told him, that _Philander_ was come to those lodgings; that he saw him alightout of the chair, and took perfect notice of him; that he was sure itwas that _Philander_ he looked for: _Clarinau_, overjoyed that hisrevenge was at hand, took his dagger, sword and pistol, and hasted to_Sylvia_'s lodgings, where he found the chair still waiting, and thedoors all open; he made no more ado, but goes in and ascends thestairs, and passes on, without opposition, to the very chamber wherethey sat, _Sylvia_ in the arms of her lover, not _Philander_, but_Octavio_, who being also in black, tall, long, brown hair, andhandsome, and by a sight that might very well deceive; he made no moreto do, not doubting but it was _Philander_ and _Calista_, but steps tohim, and offering to stab him, was prevented by his starting at thesuddenness of his approach; however, the dagger did not absolutelymiss him, but wounded him in the left arm; but _Octavio_'s youth, toonimble for _Clarinau_'s age, snatching at the dagger as it woundedhim, at once prevented the hurt being much, and returned a home blowat _Clarinau_, so that he fell at _Sylvia_'s feet, whose shrieksalarmed the house to their aid, where they found by the light of thecandle that was brought, that the man was not dead, but lay gazing on_Octavio_, who said to him, 'Tell me, thou unfortunate wretch, whatmiserable fate brought thee to this place, to disturb the repose ofthose who neither know thee, nor had done thee injury?' 'Ah, sir, 'replied _Clarinau_, 'you have reason for what you say, and I askheaven, that unknown lady, and yourself, a thousand pardons for mymistake and crime: too late I see my error, pity and forgive me; andlet me have a priest, for I believe I am a dead man. ' _Octavio_ wasextremely moved with compassion at these words, and immediately senthis page, who was alarmed up in the crowd, for a Father and a surgeon;and he declared before the rest, that he forgave that stranger, meaning _Octavio_, since he had, by a mistake of his footman, pulledon his own death, and had deserved it: and thereupon, as well as hecould, he told them for whom he had mistaken _Octavio_, who, havinginjured his honour, he had vowed revenge upon; and that he took thefair lady, meaning _Sylvia_, for a faithless wife of his, who had beenthe authoress of all this. _Octavio_ soon divined this to be hisbrother-in-law, _Clarinau_, whom yet he had never seen; and stoopingdown to him, he cried, 'It is I, sir, that ought to demand a thousandpardons of you, for letting the revenge of _Calista_'s honour alone solong. ' _Clarinau_ wondered who he should be that named _Calista_, andasking him his name, he told him he was the unhappy brother to thatfair wanton, whose story was but too well known to him. Thus while_Clarinau_ viewing his face, found him the very picture of that falsecharmer; while _Octavio_ went on and assured him, if it were hisunhappiness to die, that he would revenge the honour of him and hissister, on the betrayer of both. By this time the surgeon came whofound not his wound to be mortal, as was feared, and ventured toremove him to his own lodgings, whither _Octavio_ would accompany him;and leaving _Sylvia_ inclined, after her fright, to be reposed, hetook his leave of her for that evening, not daring, out of respect toher, to visit her any more that night: he was no sooner gone, but_Philander_, who never used to go without two very good pocket-pistolsabout him, having left them under his pillow last night at _Sylvia's_lodgings; and being upon love-adventures, he knew not what occasion hemight have for them, returned back to her lodgings: when he came, shewas a little surprised at first to see him, but after reflecting onwhat revenge was threatened him, she exposed _Octavio's_ secret tohim, and told him the whole adventure, and how she had got hiswritings, which would be all her own, if she might be suffered tomanage the fond believer. But he, whose thought ran on the revenge wasthreatened him, cried out--'He has kindly awakened me to my duty bywhat he threatens; it is I that ought to be revenged on his perfidy, of shewing you my letters; and to that end, by heaven, I will deferall the business in the world to meet him, and pay his courtesy--If Ihad enjoyed his sister, he might suppose I knew her not to be so; andwhat man of wit or youth, would refuse a lovely woman, that presents aheart laden with love, and a person all over charms, to his bosom? Iwere to be esteemed unworthy the friendship of a man of honour, if Ishould: but he has basely betrayed me every way, makes love to mycelebrated mistress, whom he knows I love, and getting secrets, unravels them to make his court and his access the easier. '

She foresaw the dangerous consequence of a quarrel of this nature, andhad no sooner blown the fire, (which she did, to the end that_Philander_ should avoid her lodgings, and all places where he mightmeet _Octavio_) but she hinders all her designs; and fixing him there, he was resolved to expect him at the first place he thought mostlikely to find him in: she endeavoured, by a thousand entreaties, toget him gone, urging it all for his safety; but that made him the moreresolved; and all she could do, could not hinder him from stayingsupper, and after that, from going to bed: so that she was forced tohide a thousand terrors and fears by feigned caresses, the sooner toget him to meet _Cesario_ in the morning, as he said he was to do; andthough she could not help flattering both, while by; yet she everloved the absent best; and now repented a thousand times that she hadtold him any thing. 

Early the next morning, as was his custom, _Octavio_ came to inquireof _Sylvia_'s health; and though he had oftentimes only inquired andno more, (taking excuse of ill nights, or commands that none shouldcome to her till she called) and had departed satisfied, and cameagain: yet now, when he went into _Antonet_'s chamber, he found shewas in a great consternation, and her looks and flattering excusesmade him know, there was more than usual in his being to-day denied;he therefore pressed it the more, and she grew to greater confusion byhis pressing her. At last he demanded the key of her lady's chamber, he having, he said, business of great importance to communicate toher; she told him she had as great reason not to deliver it, --'Thatis, ' said she, (fearing she had said too much) 'my lady's commands';and finding no persuasion would prevail, and rather venturing_Sylvia_'s eternal displeasure, than not to be satisfied in thejealousies she had raised; especially reflecting on _Philander_'sbeing in town, he took _Antonet_ in his arms, and forced the key fromher; who was willing to be forced; for she admired _Octavio_'s bounty, and cared not for _Philander_. _Octavio_ being master of the key, flies to _Sylvia_'s door like lightning, or a jealous lover, mad todiscover what seen would kill him: he opens the chamber-door, and goessoftly to the bed-side, as if he now feared to find what he sought, and wished to heaven he might be mistaken; he opened the curtains, andfound _Sylvia_ sleeping with _Philander_ in her arms. I need make nodescription of his confusion and surprise; the character I have givenof that gallant honest, generous lover, is sufficient to make youimagine his heart, when indeed he could believe his eyes: before hethought--he was about to draw his sword, and run them both through, and revenge at once his injured honour, his love, and that of hissister; but that little reason he had left checked that barbarity, andhe was readier, from his own natural sweetness of disposition, to runhimself upon his own sword: and there the Christian pleaded----and yetfound his heart breaking, his whole body trembling, his mind allagony, his cheeks cold and pale, his eyes languishing, his tonguerefusing to give utterance to his pressure, and his legs to supporthis body; and much ado he had to reel into _Antonet_'s, chamber, wherehe found the maid dying with grief for her concern for him. He was nosooner got to her bed-side, but he fell dead upon it; while she, whowas afraid to alarm her lady and _Philander_, lest _Octavio_, beingfound there, had accused her with betraying them; but shutting thedoor close, (for yet no body had seen him but herself) she endeavouredall she could to bring him to life again, and it was a great whilebefore she could do so: as soon as he was recovered, he lay a goodwhile without speaking, reflecting on his fate; but after appearing asif he had assumed all his manly spirits together, he rose up, andconjured _Antonet_ to say nothing of what had happened, and that sheshould not repent the service she would do him by it. _Antonet_, whowas his absolute, devoted slave, promised him all he desired; and hehad the courage to go once again, to confirm himself in the lewdnessof this undone fair one, whose perjuries had rendered her even odiousnow to him, and he beheld her with scorn and disdain: and that shemight know how indifferently he did so, (when she should come to knowit) he took _Philander_'s sword that lay on her _toilet_, and left hisown in the place, and went out pleased; at least in this, that he hadcommanded his passion in the midst of the most powerful occasion formadness and revenge that ever was. 

They lay thus secured in each other's arms till nine o'clock in themorning, when _Philander_ received a note from _Brilliard_, who wasmanaging his lord's design of getting a billet delivered to _Calista_by the way of a nun, whom _Brilliard_ had made some address to, tothat end, and sent to beg his lord would come to the grate, and speakto the young nun, who had undertaken for any innocent message. Thisnote made him rise and haste to go out, when he received another froman unknown hand; which was thus:

 * * * * *

_To_ Philander. 

My Lord, I have important business with you, and beg I may speak withyou at three of the clock; I will wait for you by the fountain in thepark: Yours. 

 * * * * *

_Sylvia_, who was impatient to have him gone, never asked to seeeither of these notes, lest it should have deterred him; and she knew_Octavio_ would visit her early though she knew withal she couldrefuse him entrance with any slight excuse, so good an opinion he hadof her virtue, and so absolute an ascendant she had over him. --She hadgiven orders, if he came, to be refused her chamber; and she was gladto know he had not yet been at her lodgings. A hundred times she wasabout to make use of the lessened love _Philander_ had for her, and tohave proposed to him the suffering _Octavio_ to share her embraces, for so good an interest, since no returns could be had from _France_, nor any signs of amendment of their fortunes any other way: but stillshe feared he had too much honour to permit such a cheat in love, tobe put even upon an enemy. This fear deferred her speaking of it, oroffering to sacrifice _Octavio_ as a cully to their interest, thoughshe wished it; nor knew she long how to deceive both; the business wasto put _Philander_ off handsomely, if possible, since she failed ofall other hopes. These were her thoughts while _Philander_ wasdressing, and raised by his asking for some more pistoles from hercabinet, which she found would quickly be at an end, if one loverdiminished daily, and the other was hindered from increasing: but_Philander_ was no sooner dressed but he left her to her repose; and_Octavio_ (who had a _Grison_ attending the motions of _Philander_, all that morning, and had brought him word he was gone from _Sylvia_)went to visit her, and entering her chamber, all changed from what hewas before, and death sat in his face and eyes, maugre all hisresolves and art of dissembling. She, not perceiving it as she lay, stretched out her arms to receive him with her wonted caresses; but hegently put her off, and sighing, cried--'No, _Sylvia_, I leave thosejoys to happier lovers. ' She was a little surprised at that--but notimagining he had known her guilt, replied: 'Then those caresses wereonly meant for him; for if _Sylvia_ could make him happy, he was sureof being the man;' and by force compelled him to suffer her kisses andembraces, while his heart was bursting, without any sense of thepleasure of her touches. 'Ah, _Sylvia_, ' says he, 'I can never thinkmyself secure, or happy, while _Philander_ is so near you; everyabsent moment alarms me with ten thousand fears; in sleep I dream thouart false, and givest thy honour up all my absent nights, and all daythy vows:' and that he was sure, should she again suffer herself tosee _Philander_, he should be abandoned; and she again undone. 'Forsince I parted with you, ' continued he, 'I heard from _Clarinau_, thathe saw _Philander_ yesterday come out of your lodgings. How can I bearthis, when you have vowed not to see him, with imprecations that mustdamn thee, _Sylvia_, without severe repentance?'----At this sheoffered to swear again--but he stopped her, and begged her not toswear till she had well considered; then she confessed he made her avisit, but that she used him with that pride and scorn, that if hewere a man of honour he could never bear; and she was sure he wouldtrouble her no more: in fine, she flattered, fawned, and jilted so, asno woman, common in the trade of sinful love, could be so great amistress of the art. He suffered her to go on, in all that couldconfirm him she thought him an errant coxcomb; and all that couldrender her the most contemptible of her sex. He was pleased, becauseit made him despise her; and that was easier than adoring her; yet, though he heard her with scorn, he heard her with too much love. Whenshe was even breathless with eager prostitution--he cried, 'Ah, indiscreet and unadvised _Sylvia_, how I pity thee!' 'Ah, ' saidshe--observing him speak this with a scornful smile--'Is it possible, you should indeed be offended for a simple visit! which neither was bymy invitation or wish: can you be angry, if I treat _Philander_ withthe civility of a brother? Or rather, that I suffer him to see me, toreceive my reproaches?'--'Stop here, ' said he, 'thou fair deludingflatterer, or thou art for ever ruined. Do not charge thy soul yetfarther;--do not delude me on--all yet I can forgive as I am dying, but should I live, I could not promise thee. Add not new crimes bycozening me anew; for I shall find out truth, though it lie hid evenin the bottom of _Philander_'s, heart. ' This he spoke with an air offierceness--which seeing her grow pale upon, he sunk again tocompassion, and in a soft voice cried--'Whatever injuries thou hastdone my honour, thy word, and faith to me, and my poor heart, I canperhaps forgive when you dare utter truth: there is some honesty inthat'--She once more embracing him, fell anew to protesting her illtreatment of _Philander_, how she gave him back his vows, and assuredhim she would never be reconciled to him. 'And did you part so, _Sylvia_?' replied the dying _Octavio_. 'Upon my honour, ' said she, 'just so. '--'Did you not kiss at parting?' said he faintly. --'Justkissed, as friends, no more, by all thy love. ' At this he bursts intotears, and cried--'Oh! why, when I reposed my heart with thee, andlavished out my very soul in love, could I not merit this poorrecompense of being fairly dealt with? Behold this sword--I took itfrom your _toilet_; view it, it is _Philander_'s; myself this morningtook it from your table: no more--since you may guess the fatal rest:I am undone, and I am satisfied--I had a thousand warnings of my fate, but still the beauty charmed, and my too good nature yielded: oft youhave cozened me, and oft I saw it, and still love made me willing toforgive; the foolish passion hung upon my soul, and soothed me intopeace. ' _Sylvia_, quite confounded, (not so much with the knowledge hehad of the unlucky adventure, as at her so earnestly denying andforswearing any love had passed between them) lay still to considerhow to retrieve this lost game, and gave him leisure to go on--'Now, 'said he, 'thou art silent----would thou hadst still been so: ah, hapless maid, who hast this fate attending thee, to ruin all that lovethee! Be dumb, be dumb for ever; let the false charm that dwells uponthy tongue, be ended with my life: let it no more undo believing man, lest amongst the number some one may conquer thee, and deaf to all thywit, and blind to beauty, in some mad passion think of all thycozenings, should fall upon thee, and forget thy sex, and by thy deathrevenge the lost _Octavio_. ' At these words he would have rose fromher arms, but she detained him, and with a piteous voice implored hispardon; but he calmly replied, 'Yes, _Sylvia_, I will pardon thee, andwish that heaven may do so; to whom apply thy early rhetoric andpenitence; for it can never, never charm me more: my fortune, if thouever wanted support to keep thee chaste and virtuous, shall still becommanded by thee, with that usual frankness it has hitherto servedthee; but for _Octavio_, he is resolved to go where he will never morebe seen by woman--or hear the name of love to ought but heaven--Farewell--one parting kiss, and then a long farewell--' As he bowed tokiss her, she caught him fast in her arms, while a flood of tearsbathed his face, nor could he prevent his from mixing with hers: whilethus they lay, _Philander_ came into the room, and finding them soclosely entwined, he was as much surprised almost as _Octavio_ wasbefore; and, drawing his sword, was about to have killed him; but hishonour overcame his passion; and he would not take him at suchdisadvantage, but with the flat of his sword striking him on the backas he lay, he cried, 'Rise, traitor, and turn to thy mortal enemy. '_Octavio_, not at all surprised, turned his head and his eyes bedewedin tears towards his rival. 'If thou be'est an enemy, ' said he, 'though never couldst have taken me in a better humour of dying. Finish, _Philander_, that life then, which if you spare, it willpossibly never leave thine in repose; the injuries you have done mebeing too great to be forgiven. ' 'And is it thus, ' replied_Philander_, --'thus with my mistress, that you would revenge them? Isit in the arms of _Sylvia_, that you would repay me the favours I didyour sister _Calista_?' 'You have by that word, ' said _Octavio_, 'handsomely reproached my sloth. ' And leaping briskly from the bed, hetook out his sword, and cried: 'Come then----let us go where we mayrepair both our losses, since ladies' chambers are not fit places toadjust debts of this nature in. ' At these words they both wentdown stairs; and it was in vain _Sylvia_ called and cried out toconjure them to come back; her power of commanding she had in oneunlucky day lost over both those gallant lovers. And both left herwith pity; to say no worse of the effect of her ill conduct. 

_Octavio_ went directly to the park, to the place whither he beforehad challenged _Philander_, who lost no time but followed him: as soonas he was come to the fountain he drew, and told _Philander_ that wasthe place whither he invited him in his billet that morning; however, if he liked not the ground, he was ready to remove to any other:_Philander_ was a little surprised to find that invitation was achallenge; and that _Octavio_ should be beforehand with him upon thescore of revenge; and replied, 'Sir, if the billet came from you, itwas a favour I thank you for; since it kindly put me in mind of thatrevenge I ought so justly to take of you, for betraying the secrets offriendship I reposed in you, and making base advantages of them, torecommend yourself to a woman you knew I loved, and who hates you, inspite of all the ungenerous ways you have taken to gain her. ' 'Sir, 'replied _Octavio_, 'I confess with a blush and infinite shame, theerror with which you accuse me, and have nothing to defend so great aperfidy. To tell you, I was wrought out of it by the greatest cunningimaginable, and that I must have seen _Sylvia_ die at my feet if I hadrefused them, is not excuse enough for the breach of that friendship. No, though I were exasperated with the relation there of my sister'sdishonour: I must therefore adjust that debt with you as well as Ican; and if I die in the juster quarrel of my sister's honour, I shallbelieve it the vengeance of heaven upon me for that one breach offriendship. ' 'Sir, ' replied _Philander_, 'you have given me so great asatisfaction in this confession, and have made so good and gallant anatonement by this acknowledgement, that it is with relunctancy I go topunish you for other injuries, of which I am assured you cannot sowell acquit yourself. ' 'Though I would not justify a baseness, 'replied _Octavio_, 'for which there ought to be no excuse; yet I willnot accuse myself, or acknowledge other injuries, but leave yousomething to maintain the quarrel on--and render it a little just onyour side; nor go to wipe off the outrage you pretend I have done yourlove, by adoring the fair person who at least has been dear to you, bythe wrongs you have done my sister. ' 'Come, sir, we shall not bydisputing quit scores, ' cried _Philander_, a little impatiently; 'whatI have lately seen, has made my rage too brisk for long parly. ' Atthat they both advanced, and made about twenty passes before eitherreceived any wound; the first that bled was _Octavio_, who received awound in his breast, which he returned on _Philander_, and after thatmany were given and taken; so that the track their feet made, infollowing and advancing as they fought, was marked out by their blood:in this condition, (still fighting) _Sylvia_, (who had called themback in vain, and only in her night-gown in a chair pursued them thatminute they quitted her chamber) found them thus employed, and withoutany fear she threw herself between them: _Octavio_, out of respect toher, ceased; but _Philander_, as if he had not regarded her, wouldstill have been striving for victory, when she stayed his hand, andbegged him to hear her; he then set the point of his sword to theground, and breathless and fainting almost, attended what she had tosay: she conjured him to cease the quarrel, and told him if _Octavio_had injured him in her heart, he ought to remember he had injured_Octavio_ as much in that of his sister: she conjured him by all thefriendship both she and himself had received at _Octavio_'s hands; andconcluded with saying so many fine things of that cavalier, that inlieu of appeasing, it but the more exasperated the jealous _Philander_, who took new courage with new breath, and passed at _Octavio_. Shethen addressed to _Octavio_, and cried: 'Hold, oh hold, or make yourway through me; for here I will defend virtue and honour!' and putherself before _Octavio_: she spoke with so piteous a voice, andpleaded with so much tenderness, that _Octavio_, laying his sword ather feet, bid her dispose--false as she was, of his honour: 'For oh, 'said he, 'my life is already fallen a victim to your perjuries!' Hecould say no more, but falling where he had laid his sword, left_Philander_ master of the field. By this time some gentlemen that hadbeen walking came up to them, and found a man lie dead, and a ladyimploring another to fly: they looked on _Oclavio_, and found he hadyet life; and immediately sent for surgeons, who carried him to hislodgings with very little hope: _Philander_, as well as his woundswould give him leave, got into a chair, telling the gentlemen thatlooked on him, he would be responsible for _Octavio_'s life, if he hadhad the ill fortune to take it; that his quarrel was too just tosuffer him to fly. --So being carried to the _cabaret_, with anabsolute command to _Sylvia_ not to follow him, or visit him: for fearof hurting him by disobeying, she suffered herself to be carried toher lodgings, where she threw herself on her bed, and drowned her faireyes in a shower of tears: she advises with _Antonet_ and her pagewhat to do in this extremity; she fears she has, by her illmanagement, lost both her lovers, and she was in a condition ofneeding every aid. They, who knew the excellent temper of _Octavio_, and knew him to be the most considerable lover of the two, besoughther, as the best expedient she could have recourse to, to visit_Octavio_, who could not but take it kindly; and they did not doubtbut she had so absolute a power over him, that with a very littlecomplaisance towards him, she would retrieve that heart her ill luckhad this morning forfeited; and which, they protested, they knewnothing of, nor how he got into her chamber. This advice she took;but, because _Octavio_ was carried away dead, she feared, (and swoonedwith the fear) that he was no longer in the world, or, at least, thathe would not long be so: however, she assumed her courage again at thethought, that, if he did die, she had an absolute possession of allhis fortune, which was to her the most considerable part of the man, or at least, what rendered him so very agreeable to her: however, shethought fit to send her page, which she did in an hour after he wascarried home, to see how he did; who brought her word that he wasrevived to life, and had commanded his gentleman to receive nomessages from her. This was all she could learn, and what put her intothe greatest extremity of grief. She after sent to _Philander_, andfound him much the better of the two, but most infinitely incensedagainst _Sylvia_: this also added to her despair; yet since she foundshe had not a heart that any love, or loss of honour, or fortune couldbreak; but, on the contrary, a rest of youth and beauty, that mightoblige her, with some reason, to look forward on new lovers, if theold must depart: the next thing she resolved was, to do her utmostendeavour to retrieve _Octavio_, which, if unattainable, she wouldmake the best of her youth. She sent therefore (notwithstanding hiscommands to suffer none of her people to come and see him) to inquireof his health; and in four days (finding he received other visits) shedressed herself, with all the advantages of her sex, and in a chairwas carried to his aunt's, where he lay. The good lady, not knowingbut she might be that person of quality whom she knew to be extremelyin love with her nephew, and who lived at the Court of _Brussels_, andwas niece to the Governor, carried her to his chamber, where she lefther, as not willing to be a witness of a visit she knew must besupposed _incognito_: it was evening, and _Octavio_ was in bed, and, at the first sight of her his blood grew disordered in his veins, flushed in his pale face, and burnt all over his body, and he was nearto swooning as he lay: she approached his bed with a face all set forlanguishment, love, and shame in her eyes, and sighs, that, withoutspeaking, seemed to tell her grief at his disaster; she sat, or ratherfell, on his bed, as unable to support the sight of him in thatcondition; she in a soft manner, seized his burning hand, grasped itand sighed, then put it to her mouth, and suffered a tear or two tofall upon it; and when she would have spoke, she made her sobs resisther words; and left nothing unacted, that might move thetender-hearted _Octavio_ to that degree of passion she wished. Ahundred times fain he would have spoke, but still his rising passionchoked his words; and still he feared they would prove either too softand kind for the injuries he had received, or too rough and cold forso delicate and charming a creature, and one, whom, in spite of allthose injuries, he still adored: she appeared before him with thoseattractions that never failed to conquer him, with that submission andpleading in her modest bashful eyes, that even gave his the lie, whohad seen her perfidy. Oh! what should he do to keep that fire frombreaking forth with violence, which she had so thoroughly kindled inhis heart? How should that excellent good nature assume an unwontedsullenness, only to appear what it could not by nature be? He was allsoft and sweet, and if he had pride, he knew also how to make hispleasure; and his youth loved love above all the other little vanitiesthat attend it, and was the most proper to it. Fain he would palliateher crime, and considers, in the condition she was, she could not buthave some tenderness for _Philander_; that it was no more than whatbefore passed; it was no new lover that came to kindle new passions, or approach her with a new flame; but a decliner, who came, and wasreceived with the dregs of love, with all the cold indifferenceimaginable: this he would have persuaded himself, but dares not tillhe hears her speak; and yet fears she should not speak his sense; andthis fear makes him sighing break silence, and he cried in a softtone: 'Ah! why, too lovely fair, why do you come to trouble the reposeof my dying hours? Will you, cruel maid, pursue me to my grave? ShallI not have one lone hour to ask forgiveness of heaven for my sin ofloving thee? The greatest that ever loaded my youth--and yet, alas!--the least repented yet. Be kind, and trouble not my solitude, depart with all the trophies of my ruin, and if they can add any gloryto thy future life, boast them all over the universe, and tell what adeluded youth thou hast undone. Take, take, fair deceiver, all myindustry, my right of my birth, my thriving parents have been so longa-getting to make me happy with; take the useless trifle, and lavishit on pleasure to make thee gay, and fit for luckier lovers: take thatbest part of me, and let this worst alone; it was that first won thedear confession from thee that drew my ruin on--for which I hateit--and wish myself born a poor cottage boor, where I might never haveseen thy tempting beauty, but lived for ever blessed in ignorance. ' Atthis the tears ran from his eyes, with which the softened _Sylvia_mixed her welcome stream, and as soon as she could speak, she replied(with half cunning and half love, for still there was too much of thefirst mingled with the last), 'Oh, my _Octavio_, to what extremitiesare you resolved to drive a poor unfortunate, who, even in the heightof youth, and some small stock of beauty, am reduced to all themiseries of the wretched? Far from my noble noble parents, lost tohonour, and abandoned by my friends; a helpless wanderer in a strangeland, exposed to want, and perishing, and had no sanctuary butthyself, thy dear, thy precious self, whom heaven had sent, in mercy, to my aid; and thou, at last, by a mistaken turn of miserable fate, hast taken that dear aid away. ' At this she fell weeping on hispanting bosom; nevertheless he got the courage to reply once again, before he yielded himself a shameful victim to her flattery, and said;'Ah cruel _Sylvia_, is it possible that you can charge the levity onme? Is it I have taken this poor aid, as you are pleased to call it, from you? Oh! rather blame your own unhappy easiness, that afterhaving sworn me faith and love, could violate them both, both wherethere was no need. It would have better become thy pride and quality, to have resented injuries received, than brought again that scorned, abandoned person (fine as it was and shining still with youth) to hisforgetful arms. ' 'Alas, ' said she, 'I will not justify my hatefulcrime: a crime I loathe to think of, it was a fault beyond aprostitution; there might have possibly been new joy in such a sin, but here it was palled and gone--fled to eternity away:--And but forthe dear cause I did commit it, there were no expiation for my fault;no penitent tears could wash away my crime. ' 'Alas, ' said he--'ifthere were any cause, if there be any possible excuse for such abreach of love, give it my heart; make me believe it, and I may yetlive; and though I cannot think thee innocent, to be compelled by anyfrivolous reason, it would greatly satisfy my longing soul. But, havea care, do not delude me on--for if thou durst persuade me intopardon, and to return to all my native fondness, and then againshouldst play me fast and loose; by heaven--by all my sacred passionto thee, by all that men call holy, I will pursue thee with my utmosthate; forsake thee with my fortune and my heart; and leave theewretched to the scorning crowd. Pardon these rude expressions of alove that can hardly forgive the words it utters: I blush with shamewhile I pronounce them true. ' When she replied, 'May all you havepronounced, and all your injured love can invent, fall on me when Iever more deceive you; believe me now, and but forgive what is past, and trust my love and honour for the future. ' At this she told him, that in the first visit _Philander_ made her, she, using him soreproachfully, and upbraiding him with his inconstancy, made himunderstand, that he was betrayed by _Octavio_, and that the wholeintrigue with _Calista_, confessed by him, was discovered to _Sylvia_;which, he said, put him into so violent a rage against _Octavio_, thathe vowed that minute to find him out and kill him. Nor could all thepersuasions of reason serve to hinder him; so that she who (as shesaid) loved _Octavio_ to death, finding so powerful an enemy, as herfears made her fancy _Philander_ was, ready to have snatched from her, in one furious moment, all she adored; she had recourse to all theflattery of love to with-hold him from an attempt so dangerous: and itwas with much ado, with all those aids, that he was obliged to stay, which she had forced him to do, to get time to give him notice in themorning for his approaching danger: not that she feared _Octavio_'slife, had _Philander_ attacked it fairly; but he looked on himself asa person injured by close private ways, and would take a like revenge, and have hurt him when he as little dreamed of it, as _Philander_ didof the discovery he made of his letter to her. To this she swore, shewept, she embraced, and still protested it true; adding withal athousand protestations of her future detestation of him; and thatsince the worst was past, and that they had fought, and he was comeoff, though with so many wounds, yet with life, she was resolvedutterly to defy _Philander_, as the most perfidious of his sex; andassured him, that nothing in the world was so indifferent as she inhis arms. In fine, after having omitted nothing that might gain acredit, and assure him of her love and heart, and possess him with abelief, for the future, of her lasting vows: he, wholly convinced andovercome, snatches her in his arms, and bursting into a shower oftears, cried--'Take--take all my soul, thou lovely charmer of it, anddispose of the destiny of _Octavio_. ' And smothering her with kissesand embraces made a perfect reconciliation. When the surgeons, whocame to visit him, finding him in the disorder of a fever, though morejoy was triumphing in his face than before, they imagined this ladythe fair person for whom this quarrel was; for it had made a greatnoise you may believe; and finding it hurtful for his wounds, eitherto be transported with too much rage, grief, or love, besought him hewould not talk too much, or suffer any visits that might prejudice hishealth: and indeed, with what had been past, he found himself afterhis transport very ill and feverish, so that _Sylvia_ promised thedoctors she would visit him no more in a day or two, though she knewnot well how to be from him so long; but would content herself withsending her page to inquire of his health. To this _Octavio_ made verygreat opposition, but his aunt, and the rest of the learned, were ofopinion it ought for his health to be so, and he was obliged to besatisfied with her absence: at parting she came to him, and againbesought him to believe her vows to be well, and that she would departsomewhere with him far from _Philander_, who she knew was obliged toattend the motions of _Cesario_ at _Brussels_, whom again sheimprecated never to see more. This satisfied our impatient lover, andhe suffered her to go, and leave him to that rest he could get. Shewas no sooner got home, and retired to her chamber, but, findingherself alone, which now she did not care to be, and being assured sheshould not see _Octavio_, instead of triumphing for her new-gainedvictory, she sent her page to inquire again of _Philander_'s health, and to entreat that she might visit him: at first before she sent, shechecked this thought as base, as against all honour, and all her vowsand promises to the brave _Octavio_; but finding an inclination to it, and proposing a pleasure and satisfaction in it, she was of a naturenot to lose a pleasure for a little punctilio of honour; and withoutconsidering what would be the event of such a folly, she sent herpage, though he had been repulsed before, and forbid coming with anymessages from his lady. The page found no better success than hithertohe had done: but being with much entreaty brought to _Philander_'schamber, he found him sitting in his night-gown, to whom addressinghimself--he had no sooner named his lady--but _Philander_ bid him begone, for he would hear nothing from that false woman: the boy wouldhave replied, but he grew more enraged; and reviling her with all therailings of incensed lovers, he puts himself into his closet withoutspeaking any more, or suffering any answer. This message beingdelivered to the expecting lady, put her into a very great rage--whichended in as deep a concern: her great pride, fortified by herlooking-glass, made her highly resent the affront; and she believed itmore to the glory of her beauty to have quitted a hundred lovers, thanto be abandoned by one. It was this that made her rave and tear, andtalk high; and after all, to use her cunning to retrieve what it hadbeen most happy for her should have been for ever lost; and she oughtto have blessed the occasion. But her malicious star had designedother fortune for her: she wrote to him several letters, that weresent back sealed: she railed, she upbraided, and then fell tosubmission. At last, he was persuaded to open one, but returned suchanswers as gave her no satisfaction, but encouraged her with a littlehope that she should draw him on to a reconciliation: between whilesshe failed not to send _Octavio_ the kindest, impatient letters in theworld, and received the softest replies that the tongue of man couldutter, for he could not write yet. At last, _Philander_ having reduced_Sylvia_ to the very brink of despair, and finding, by her passionateimportunity, that he could make his peace with her on any terms ofadvantage to himself, resolved to draw such articles of agreement asshould wholly subdue her to him, or to stand it out to the last: theconditions were, that he being a person by no means of a humour to beimposed upon; if he were dear to her, she should give herself entirelyto his possession, and quit the very conversation of all those he hadbut an apprehension would disturb his repose: that she should removeout of the way of his troublesome rivals, and suffer herself to beconducted whither he thought good to carry her. These conditions sheliked, all but the going away; she could not tell to what sort ofconfinement that might amount. He flies off wholly, and denies alltreaty upon her least scruple, and will not be asked the explanationof what he has proposed: so that she bends like a slave for a littleempire over him; and to purchase the vanity of retaining him, suffersherself to be absolutely undone. She submits; and that very day shehad leave from the doctors to visit _Octavio_, and that all-ravishedlover lay panting in expectation of the blessed sight, believing everyminute an age, his apartment dressed and perfumed, and all thingsready to receive the darling of his soul, _Philander_ came in a coachand six horses (and making her pack up all her jewels and fine things, and what they could not carry in the coach, put up to come after them)and hurries her to a little town in _Luke-Land_, a place betweenFlanders and Germany, without giving her time to write, or letting herknow whither she was going. While she was putting up her things (Iknow she has since confessed) her heart trembled, and foreboded theill that was to come; that is, that she was hastening to ruin: but shehad chanced to say so much to him of her passion to retrieve him, thatshe was ashamed to own the contrary so soon; but suffered that forceupon her inclinations to do the most dishonourable and disinterestedthing in the world. She had not been there a week, and her trunks ofplate and fine things were arrived, but she fell in labour, and wasbrought to bed, though she shewed very little of her condition all thetime she went. This great affair being well over, she considersherself a new woman, and began, or rather continued, to consider theadvantage she had lost in _Octavio_: she regrets extremely herconduct, and from one degree to another she looks on herself as lostto him; she every day saw what she had decayed, her jewels sold one byone, and at last her necessaries. _Philander_, whose head was runningon _Calista_, grudged every moment he was not about that affair, andgrew as peevish as she; she recovers to new beauty, but he growscolder and colder by possession; love decayed, and ill humourincreased: they grew uneasy on both sides, and not a day passedwherein they did not break into open and violent quarrels, upbraidingeach other with those faults, which both wished that either wouldagain commit, that they might be fairly rid of one another: it grew atlast to that height, that they were never well but when they wereabsent from one another; he making a hundred little intrigues andgallantries with all the pretty women, and those of any quality in thetown or neighbouring _villas_. She saw this with grief, shame, anddisdain, and could not tell which way to relieve herself: she was notpermitted the privilege of visits, unless to some grave ladies, or tomonasteries; a man was a rarity she had hardly seen in two months, which was the time she had been there; so that she had leisure tothink of her folly, bemoan the effects of her injustice, and contrive, if she could, to remedy her disagreeable life, which now was reduced, not only to scurrilous quarrels, and hard words; but, often in herfury, she flying upon him, and with the courage or indiscretion of hersex, would provoke him to indecencies that render life insupportableon both sides. While they lived at this rate, both contriving howhandsomely to get quit of each other, _Brilliard_, who was left in_Brussels_, to take care of his lord's affairs there, and that as soonas he had heard of _Cesario_'s arrival he should come with all speedand give him notice, thought every minute an hour till he could seeagain the charmer of his soul, for whom he suffered continual feversof love. He studies nothing but how first to get her pardon, and thento compass his designs of possessing her: he had not seen her, nordurst pretend to it, since she left _Holland_. He believed she wouldhave the discretion to conceal some of his faults, lest he shoulddiscover in revenge some of hers; and fancied she would imagine so ofhis conduct: he had met with no reproaches yet from his lord, andbelieved himself safe. With this imagination, he omitted nothing thatmight render him acceptable to her, nor to gain any secrets hebelieved might be of use to him: knowing therefore she had not dealtvery generously with _Octavio_, by this flight with _Philander_, andbelieving that that exasperated lover, would in revenge declare anything to the prejudice of the fair fugitive, he (under pretence ofthrowing himself at his feet, and asking his pardon for his illtreating him in _Holland_) designed before he went into _Luke-Land_ topay _Octavio_ a visit, and accordingly went; he met first with hispage, who being very well acquainted with _Brilliard_, discoursed withhim before he carried him to his lord: he told him that his lord thatday that _Sylvia_ departed, being in impatient expectation of her, andthat she came not according to appointment, sent him to her lodgings, to know if any accident had prevented her coming; but that when hecame, though he had been with her but an hour before, she was goneaway with _Philander_, never more to return. The youth, not being ableto carry this sad news to his lord, when he came home offered at ahundred things to conceal the right; but the impatient lover would notbe answered, but, all enraged, commanded him to tell that truth, whichhe found already but too apparently in his eyes. The lad so commanded, could no longer defer telling him _Sylvia_ was gone; and being asked, again and again, what he meant, with a face and voice that everymoment altered to dying; the page assured him she was gone out of_Brussels_ with _Philander_, never more to return; which was no soonertold him, but he sunk on the couch where he lay, and fainted: hefarther told him how long it was, and with what difficulty he wasrecovered to life; and that after he was so, he refused to speak orsee any visitors; could for a long time be neither persuaded to eatnor sleep, but that he had spoken to no body ever since, and did nowbelieve he could not procure him the favour he begged: thatnevertheless he would go, and see what the very name of any that hadbut a relation to the family of _Sylvia_ would produce in him, whethera storm of passion, or a calm of grief: either would be better than adullness, all silent and sad, in which there was no understanding whathe meant by it: whoever spoke, he only made a short sign, and turnedaway, as much as to say, speak no more to me: but now resolved to tryhis temper, he hastened to his lord, and told him that _Brilliard_, full of penitence for his past fault, and grief for the ill conditionhe heard he was in, was come to pay his humble respects to him, andgain his pardon before he went to his lord and _Sylvia_; without whichhe had not, nor could have, any peace of mind, he being too sensibleof the baseness of the injury he had done him. At the name of_Philander_ and _Sylvia_, _Octavio_ shewed some signs of listening, but to the rest no regard; and starting from the bed where he waslaid: 'Ah! what hast thou said?' cried he. The page then repeated themessage, and was commanded to bring him up; who, accordingly, with allthe signs of submission, cast himself at his feet and mercy; and, though he were an enemy, the very thought that he belonged to _Sylvia_made _Octavio_ to caress him as the dearest of friends: he kept himwith him two or three days, and would not suffer him to stir from him;but all their discourse was of the faithless _Sylvia_; of whom, thedeceived lover spoke the softest, unheard, tender things, that everpassion uttered: he made the amorous _Brilliard_ weep a hundred timesa day; and ever when he would have soothed his heart with hopes ofseeing her, and one day enjoying her entirely to himself, he wouldwith so much peace of mind renounce her, as Brilliard no longerdoubted but he would indeed no more trust her fickle sex. At last, thenews arrived that Cesario was in Brussels, and Brilliard was obligedthe next morning to take horse, and go to his lord: and to makehimself the more acceptable to Sylvia, he humbly besought Octavio towrite some part of his resentments to her, that he might oblige her toa reason for what she had so inhumanly done: this flattered him alittle, and he was not long before he was overcome by Brilliard'sentreaties; who, having his ends in every thing, believed this lettermight contain at least something to assist in his design, by givinghim authority over her by so great a secret: the next morning, beforehe took horse he waited on Octavio for his letter, and promised him ananswer at his return, which would be in a few days. This letter wasopen, and Octavio suffered Brilliard to read it, making him anabsolute confidant in his amour; which having done, he besought him toadd one thing more to it; and that was, to beg her to forgiveBrilliard, which for his sake he knew she would do: he told him, hewas obliged as a good Christian, and a dying man, one resolved forheaven to do that good office; and accordingly did. Brilliard takingpost immediately, arrived to Philander, where he found every thing ashe wished, all out of humour, still on the fret, and ever peevish. Hehad not seen Sylvia, as I said, since she went from Holland, and nowknew not which way to approach her; Philander was abroad on some ofhis usual gallantries when Brilliard arrived; and having discoursed awhile of the affairs of his lord and Sylvia, he told Antonet he had agreat desire to speak with that dissatisfied fair one, assuring her, he believed his visit would be welcome, from what he had to say to herconcerning Octavio: she told him (with infinite joy) that she did notdoubt of his pardon from her lady, if he brought any news from thatgallant injured man; and in all haste, though her lady saw no body, but refused to rise from her couch, she ran to her, and besought herto see Brilliard; for he came with a message from Octavio, the person, who was the subject of their discourse night and day, when alone. Sheimmediately sent for Brilliard, who approached his goddess with atrembling devotion; he knelt before her, and humbly besought herpardon for all that was past: but she, who with the very thought thathe had something to say from Octavio, forgot all but that, hastily bidhim rise, and take all he asked, and hoped for what he wished: in thistransport she embraced his head, and kissed his cheek, and took himup. 'That, madam, ' said _Brilliard_, 'which your divine bounty alonehas given me, without any merit in me, I durst not have had theconfidence to have hoped without my credential from a noblerhand--this, madam, ' said he--and gave her a letter from _Octavio_: thedear hand she knew, and kissed a hundred times as she opened it; andhaving entreated _Brilliard_ to withdraw for a moment, that he mightnot see her concern at the reading it, she sat her down, and found itthus. 

OCTAVIO _to_ SYLVIA. 

I confess, oh faithless _Sylvia_! that I shall appear in writing toyou, to shew a weakness even below that of your infidelity; nor durstI have trusted myself to have spoken so many sad soft things, as Ishall do in this letter, had I not tried the strength of my heart, andfound I could upbraid you without talking myself out of thatresolution I have taken--but, because I would die in perfect charitywith thee, as with all the world, I should be glad to know I couldforgive thee; for yet thy sins appear too black for mercy. Ah! why, charming ingrate, have you left me no one excuse for all your ills tome? Why have you injured me to that degree, that I, with all themighty stock of love I had hoarded up together in my heart, must diereproaching thee to my last gasp of life? which hadst thou been somerciful to have ended, by all the love that's breaking of my heart, that yet, even yet, is soft and charming to me, I swear with my lastbreath, I had blessed thee, _Sylvia_: but thus to use me; thus toleave my love, distracted, raving love, and no one hope or prospect ofrelief, either from reason, time, or faithless _Sylvia_, was but tostretch the wretch upon the rack, and screw him up to all degrees ofpain; yet such, as do not end in kinder death. Oh thou unhappy minerof my repose! Oh fair unfortunate! if yet my agony would give me leaveto argue, I am so miserably lost, to ask thee yet this woefulsatisfaction; to tell me why thou hast undone me thus? Why thoushouldst choose me out from all the crowd of fond admiring fools, tomake the world's reproach, and turn to ridicule? How couldst thou usethat soft good nature so, that had not one ungrateful sullen humour init, for thy revenge and pride to work upon? No baseness in my love, nodull severity for malice to be busy with; but all was gay and kind, all lavish fondness, and all that woman, vain with youth and beauty, could wish in her adorer: what couldst thou ask, but empire, which Igave not? My love, my soul, my life, my very honour, all was resignedto thee; that youth that might have gained me fame abroad wasdedicated to thy service, laid at thy feet, and idly passed in love. Oh charming maid, whom heaven has formed for the punishment of all, whose flames are criminal! Why couldst not thou have made some kinddistinction between those common passions and my flame? I gave theeall my vows, my honest vows, before I asked a recompense for love. Imade thee mine before the sacred powers, that witness every sacredsolemn vow, and fix them in the eternal book of fate; if thou hadstgiven thy faith to any other, as, oh! too sure thou hadst, what faultwas this in me, who knew it not? Why should I bear that sin? I tookthee to me as a virgin treasure, sent from the gods to charm the illsof life, to make the tedious journey short and joyful; I came to makeatonement for thy sin, and to redeem thy fame; not add to the detestednumber. I came to gild thy stains of honour over; and set so high aprice upon thy name, that all reproaches for thy past offences shouldhave been lost in future crowds of glory: I came to lead thee from aworld of shame, approaching ills and future miseries; from noisyflatterers that would sacrifice thee, first to dull lust, and moreunthinking wit; possess thee, then traduce thee. By heaven, I swear itwas not for myself alone I took such pains to gain thee, and set theefree from all those circumstances, that might perhaps debauch thyworthier nature, and I believed it was with pain you yielded to everybuying lover: no, it was for thy sake, in pity to thy youth, heavenhad inspired me with religious flame; and when I aimed at _Sylvia_ itwas alone I might attain to heaven the surest way, by such a piousconquest; why hast thou ruined a design so glorious, as saving bothour souls? Perhaps thou vainly thinkest that while I am pleadingthus--I am arguing still for love; or think this way to move thee intopity; no, by my hopes of death to ease my pain, love is a passion notto be compelled by any force of reason's arguments: it is anunthinking motion of the soul, that comes and goes as unaccountably aschanging moons, or ebbs and flows of rivers, only with far lesscertainty. It is not that my soul is all over love, that can beget itslikeness in your heart: had heaven and nature added to that love allthe perfections that adorn our sex, it had availed me nothing in yoursoul: there is a chance in love as well as life, and often the mostunworthy are preferred; and from a lottery I might win the prize fromall the venturing throng with as much reason, as think my chanceshould favour me with _Sylvia_; it might perhaps have been, but it wasa wondrous odds against me. Beauty is more uncertain than the dice;and though I ventured like a forward gamester, I was not yet so vainto hope to win, nor had I once complained upon my fate, if I had neverhoped: but when I had fairly won, to have it basely snatched from mypossession, and like a baffled cully see it seized by a falsegamester, and look tamely on, has given me such _ideas_ of the fool, Iscorn to look into my easy heart, and loathe the figure you made methere. Oh _Sylvia_! what an angel hadst thou been, hadst thou notsoothed me thus to my undoing! Alas, it had been no crime in thee tohate me; it was not thy fault I was not amiable; if thy soft eyescould meet no charms to please them, those soft, those charming eyeswere not in fault; nor that thy sense, too delicate and nice, couldmeet no proper subject for thy wit, thy heart, thy tender heart wasnot in fault, because it took not in my tale of love, and sent softwishes back: oh! no, my _Sylvia_, this, though I had died, had causedyou no reproach; but first to fan my fire by all the arts that eversubtle beauty could invent; to give me hope; nay, to dissemble love;yes, and so very well dissemble too, that not one tender sigh wasbreathed in vain: all that my love-sick soul was panting for, thesubtle charmer gave; so well, so very well, she could dissemble! Oh, what more proofs could I expect from love, what greater earnest ofeternal victory? Oh! thou hadst raised me to the height of heaven, tomake my fall to hell the more precipitate. Like a fallen angel now Ihowl and roar, and curse that pride that taught me first ambition; itis a poor satisfaction now, to know (if thou couldst yet tell truth)what motive first seduced thee to my ruin? Had it been interest--byheaven, I would have bought my wanton pleasures at as high rates as Iwould gratify my real passions; at least when _Sylvia_ set a price onpleasure: nay, higher yet, for love when it is repaid with equal love, it saves the chafferer a great expense: or were it wantonness of youthin thee, alas, you might have made me understood it, and I had met youwith an equal ardour, and never thought of loving, but quenched theshort-lived blaze as soon as kindled; and hoping for no more, hadnever let my hasty flame arrive any higher than that powerful minute'scure. But oh! in vain I seek for reasons from thee; perhaps thy ownfantastic fickle humour cannot inform thee why thou hast betrayed me;but thou hast done it, _Sylvia_, and may it never rise in judgement onthee, nor fix a brand upon thy name for ever, greater than all thyother guilts can load thee with: live, fair deceiver, live, and charm_Philander_ to all the heights of his beginning flame; mayst thou begaining power upon his heart, and bring it repentance for inconstancy;may all thy beauty still maintain its lustre, and all thy charms ofwit be new and gay; mayst thou be chaste and true; and since it wasthy fate to be undone, let this at least excuse the hapless maid; itwas love alone betrayed her to that ruin, and it was _Philander_ onlyhad that power. If thou hast sinned with me, as heaven is my witness, after I had plighted thee my sacred vows, I do not think thou didst:may all the powers above forgive thee, _Sylvia_; and those thou hastcommitted since those vows, will need a world of tears to wash away:it is I will weep for both; it is I will go and be a sacrifice toatone for all our sins: it is I will be the pressing penitent, andwatch, and pray, and weep, until heaven have mercy; and may my penancebe accepted for thee;--farewell--I have but one request to make thee, which is, that thou wilt, for _Octavio_'s sake, forgive the faithfulslave that brings thee this from thy

OCTAVIO. 

_Sylvia_, whose absence and ill treatment of _Octavio_, had but servedto raise her flame to a much greater degree, had no sooner read thisletter, but she suffered herself to be distracted with all thedifferent passions that possess despairing lovers; sometimes raving, and sometimes sighing and weeping: it was a good while she continuedin these disorders, still thinking on what she had to do next thatmight redeem all: being a little come to herself, she thought good toconsult with _Brilliard_ in this affair, between whom and _Octavio_she found there was a very good understanding: and resolvingabsolutely to quit _Philander_, she no longer had any scruples ordoubt what course to take, nor cared she what price she paid for areconciliation with _Octavio_, if any price would purchase it: inorder to this resolve, fixed in her heart, she sends for _Brilliard_, whom she caresses anew, with all the fondness and familiarity of awoman, who was resolved to make him her confidant, or rather indeedher next gallant. I have already said he was very handsome, and verywell made, and you may believe he took all the care he could indressing, which he understood very well: he had a good deal of wit, and was very well fashioned and bred:--With all these accomplishments, and the addition of love and youth, he could not be imagined to appearwholly indifferent in the eyes of any body, though hitherto he had inthose of _Sylvia_, whose heart was doting on _Philander_; but now, that that passion was wholly extinguished, and that their eternalquarrels had made almost a perpetual separation, she being alone, without the conversation of men, which she loved, and was used to, andin her inclination naturally addicted to love, she found _Brilliard_more agreeable than he used to be; which, together with the designsshe had upon him, made her take such a freedom with him, as whollytransported this almost hopeless lover: she discourses with himconcerning _Octavio_ and his condition, and he failed not to answer, so as to please her, right or wrong; she tells him how uneasy she waswith _Philander_, who every day grew more and more insupportable toher; she tells him she had a very great inclination for _Octavio_, andmore for his fortune that was able to support her, than his person;she knew she had a great power over him, and however it might seem nowto be diminished by her unlucky flight with _Philander_, she doubtednot but to reduce him to all that love he once professed to her, bytelling him she was forced away, and without her knowledge, beingcarried only to take the air was compelled to the fatal place whereshe now was. _Brilliard_ soothes and flatters her in all her hope, andoffers her his service in her flight, which he might easily assist, unknown to _Philander_. It was now about six o'clock at night, and shecommanded a supper to be provided, and brought to her chamber, where_Brilliard_ and she supped together, and talked of nothing but the newdesign; the hope of effecting which put her into so good a humour, that she frankly drank her bottle, and shewed more signs of mirth thanshe had done in many months before: in this good humour, _Brilliard_looked more amiable than ever; she smiles upon him, she caresses himwith all the assurance of friendship imaginable; she tells him sheshall behold him as her dearest friend, and speaks so many kindthings, that he was emboldened, and approached her by degrees morenear; he makes advances; and the greatest encouragement was, thesecret he had of her intended flight: he tells her, he hoped she wouldbe pleased to consider, that while he was serving her in a new amour, and assisting to render her into the arms of another, he was woundinghis own heart, which languished for her; that he should not have takenthe presumption to have told her this, at such a time as he offeredhis life to serve her, but that it was already no secret to her, andthat a man who loved at his rate, and yet would contrive to make hismistress happy with another, ought in justice to receive somerecompense of a flame so constant and submissive. While he spake, hefound he was not regarded with the looks of scorn or disdain; he knewher haughty temper, and finding it calm, he pressed on to newsubmissions; he fell at her feet, and pleaded so well, where noopposers were, that _Sylvia_ no longer resisted, or if she did, it wasvery feebly, and with a sort of a wish that he would pursue hisboldness yet farther; which at last he did, from one degree ofsoftness and gentle force to another, and made himself the happiestman in the world; though she was very much disordered at theapprehension of what she had suffered from a man of his character, asshe imagined, so infinitely below her; but he redoubled his submissionin so cunning a manner, that he soon brought her to her good humour;and after that, he used the kind authority of a husband whenever hehad an opportunity, and found her not displeased at his services. Sheconsidered he had a secret from her, which, if revealed, would notonly prevent her design, but ruin her for ever; she found too late shehad discovered too much to him to keep him at the distance of aservant, and that she had no other way to attach him eternally to herinterest, but by this means. He now every day appeared more fine, andwell dressed, and omitted nothing that might make him, if possible, anabsolute master of her heart, which he vowed he would defend with hislife, from even _Philander_ himself; and that he would pretend to noother empire over her, nor presume, or pretend to engross that fairand charming person, which ought to be universally adored. In fine, hefailed not to please both her desire and her vanity, and every day sheloved _Philander_ less, who sometimes in two or three days togethercame not to visit her. At this time it so happened, he being in lovewith the young daughter of an advocate, about a league from his ownlodgings, and he is always eager on the first address, till he hascompleted the conquest; so that she had not only time to please andrevenge her with _Brilliard_, but fully to resolve their affairs, andto provide all things against their flight, which they had absolutelydone before _Philander's_ return; who, coming home, received_Brilliard_ very kindly, and the news which he brought, and which madehim understand he should not have any long time to finish his newamour in; but as he was very conquering both in wit and beauty, heleft not the village without some ruins behind of beauty, which everafter bewailed his charms; and since his departure was so necessary, and that in four or five days he was obliged to go, they deferredtheir flight till he was gone; which time they had wholly tothemselves, and made as good use of it as they could; at least, shethought so, and you may be sure, he also, whose love increased withhis possession. But _Sylvia_ longs for liberty, and those necessarygallantries, which every day diminished; she loved rich clothes, gaycoaches, and to be lavish; and now she was stinted to goodhousewifery, a penury she hated. 

The time of _Philander's_, departure being come, he took a verycareless leave of _Sylvia_, telling her he would see what commands thePrince had for him, and return in ten or twelve days. _Brilliard_pretended some little indisposition, and begged he might be permittedto follow him, which was granted; and the next day, though Erilliardpleaded infinitely for a continuation of his happiness two or threedays more, she would not grant it, but obliged him, by a thousand kindpromises of it for the future, to get horses ready for her page, andwoman, and her coach for herself; which accordingly was done, and theyleft the village, whose name I cannot now call to mind, taking withher what of value she had left. They were three days on their journey:_Brilliard_, under pretence of care of her health, the weather beinghot, and for fear of overtaking _Philander_ by some accident on theroad, delayed the time as much as was possible, to be as happy as hecould all the while; and indeed _Sylvia_ was never seen in a humourmore gay. She found this short time of hope and pleasure had broughtall her banished beauties back, that care, sickness, and grief, hadextremely tarnished; only her shape was a little more inclining to befat, which did not at all however yet impair her fineness; and she wasindeed too charming without, for the deformity of her indiscretionwithin; but she had broke the bounds of honour, and now stuck atnothing that might carry on an interest, which she resolved should bethe business of her future life. 

She at last arrived at _Brussels_, and caused a lodging to be takenfor her in the remotest part of the town; as soon as she came sheobliged _Brilliard_ to visit _Octavio_; but going to his aunt's, toinquire for him, he was told that he was no longer in the world; hestood amazed a-while, believing he had been dead, when madam the aunttold him he was retired to the monastery of the Order of St _Bernard_, and would, in a day or two, without the probationary year, take HolyOrders. This did not so much surprise him as the other, knowing thathe discoursed to him, when he saw him last, as if some such retirementhe meant to resolve upon; with this news, which he was not altogetherdispleased at, _Brilliard_ returned to _Sylvia_, which soon changedall her good humour to tears and melancholy: she inquired at whatplace he was, and believed she should have power to withdraw him froma resolution so fatal to her, and so contradictive to his youth andfortune; and having consulted the matter with _Brilliard_, he hadpromised her to go to him, and use all means possible to withdraw him. This resolved, she writ a most insinuating letter to him, wherein sheexcused her flight by a surprise of _Philander's_, and urged hercondition, as it then was, for the excuse of her long silence; andthat as soon as her health would give her leave, she came to putherself eternally into his arms, never to depart more from thence. These arguments and reasons, accompanied with all the endearingtenderness her artful fancy was capable of framing, she sent with afull assurance it would prevail to persuade him to the world, and herfair arms again. While she was preparing this to go, _Philander_, whohad heard at his arrival, what made so much noise, that he had beenthe occasion of the world's loss of two of the finest persons in it, the sister _Calista_ by debauching her, and the brother by ravishinghis mistress from him, both which were entering, without allpossibility of prevention, into Holy Orders; he took so great amelancholy at it, as made him keep his chamber for two days, maugreall the urgent affairs that ought to have invited him from thence; hewas consulting by what power to prevent the misfortune; he now ranback to all the obligations he had to _Octavio_, and pardons him allthe injuries he did him; he loves him more by loving _Sylvia_ less, and remembered how that generous friend, after he knew he haddishonoured his sister, had notwithstanding sent him Letters of Creditto the magistrates of _Cologne_, and Bills of Exchange, to save himfrom the murder of his brother-in-law, as he was likely to have been. He now charges all his little faults to those of love, and hearingthat old _Clarinau_ was dead of the wound _Octavio_ had given him bymistake, which increased in him new hope of _Calista_, could she beretrieved from the monastery, he resolved, in order to this, to make_Octavio_ a visit, to beg his pardon, and beg his friendship, and hiscontinuation in the world. He came accordingly to the monastery, andwas extremely civilly received by _Octavio_, who yet had not the habiton. _Philander_ told him, he heard he was leaving the world, and couldnot suffer him to do so, without endeavouring to gain his pardon ofhim, for all the injuries he had done him; that as to what related tohis sister the Countess, he protested upon his honour, if he had butimagined she had been so, he would have suffered death sooner than hispassion to have approached her indiscreetly; and that for _Sylvia_, ifhe were assured her possession would make him happy, and call him tothe world again, he assured him he would quit her to him, were she tentimes dearer to him than she was. This he confirmed with so manyprotestations of friendship, that _Octavio_, obliged to the lastdegree, believed and returned him this answer. 'Sir, I must confessyou have found out the only way to disarm me of my resentment againstyou, if I were not obliged, by those vows I am going to take, topardon and be at peace with all the world. However, these vows cannothinder me from conserving entirely that friendship in my heart, whichyour good qualities and beauties at first sight engaged there, andfrom esteeming you more than perhaps I ought to do; the man whom Imust yet own my rival, and the undoer of my sister's honour. Butoh--no more of that; a friend is above a sister, or a mistress. ' Atthis he hung down his eyes and sighed--_Philander_ told him he was toomuch concerned in him, not to be extremely afflicted at the resolutionhe had taken, and besought him to quit a design so injurious to hisyouth, and the glorious things that heaven had destined him to; heurged all that could be said to dissuade him, and, after all, couldnot believe he would quit the world at this age, when it would besufficient forty years hence so to do. _Octavio_ only answered with asmile; but, when he saw _Philander_ still persist, he endeavoured toconvince him by speaking; and lifting up his eyes to heaven, he vowed, by all the holy powers there, he never would look down to earth again;nor more consider fickle, faithless, beauty: 'All the gay vanities ofyouth, ' said he, 'for ever I renounce, and leave them all to thosethat find a pleasure, or a constancy in them; for the fair, faithless, maid, that has undone me, I leave to you the empire of her heart; buthave a care, ' said he (and sighing laid his arms about his neck) 'foreven you, with all that stock of charms, she will at last betray: Iwish her well--so well, as to repent of all her wrongs to me--It isall I have to say. ' What _Philander_ could urge, being impossible toprevail with him: and begging his pardon and friendship (which wasgranted by _Octavio_, and implored on his side from _Philander_) hetook a ring of great value from his finger, and presented it to_Philander_, and begged him to keep it for his sake; and to rememberhim while he did so: they kissed, and sighing parted. 

_Philander_ was no sooner gone, but _Brilliard_ came to wait on_Octavio_, whom he found at his devotion, and begged his pardon fordisturbing him: he received him with a very good grace, and a cheerfulcountenance, embracing him; and after some discourse of the conditionhe was going to reduce himself to, and his admiration, that one soyoung should think of devoting himself so early to heaven, and thingsof that nature, as the time and occasion required, he told him theextreme affliction _Sylvia_ was seized with, at the news of theresolution he had taken, and delivered him a letter, which he readwithout any emotions in his heart or face, as at other times used tobe visible at the very mention of her name, or approach of herletters. At the finishing of which, he only smiling cried: 'Alas, Ipity her, ' and gave him back the letter. _Brilliard_ asked, if hewould not please to write her some answer, or condescend to see her;'No, ' replied _Octavio_, 'I have done with all the gilded vanities oflife, now I shall think of _Sylvia_ but as some heavenly thing, fitfor diviner contemplations, but never with the youthful thoughts oflove. ' What he should send her now, he said, would have a differentstyle to those she used to receive from him; it would be piouscounsel, grave advice, unfit for ladies so young and gay as _Sylvia_, and would scarce find a welcome: he wished he could convert her fromthe world--and save her from the dangers that pursued her. To thispurpose was all he said of her, and all that could be got from him bythe earnest solicitor of love, who perhaps was glad his negotiationsucceeded no better, and took his leave of him, with a promise tovisit him often; which _Octavio_ besought him to do, and told him hewould take some care, that for the good of _Sylvia_'s better part, sheshould not be reduced by want of necessaries for her life, and littleequipage, to prostitute herself to vile inconstant man; he yet had somuch respect for her--and besought _Brilliard_ to come and take careof it with him, and to entreat _Sylvia_ to accept of it from him; andif it contributed to her future happiness, he should be more pleasedthan to have possessed her entirely. 

You may imagine how this news pleased _Sylvia_; who trembling withfear every moment, had expected _Brilliard_'s coming, and found noother benefit by his negotiation, but she must bear what she cannotavoid; but it was rather with the fury of a bacchanal, than a woman ofcommon sense and prudence; all about her pleaded some days in vain, and she hated _Brilliard_ for not doing impossibilities; and it wassome time before he could bring her to permit him to speak to her, orvisit her. 

_Philander_ having left _Octavio_, went immediately to wait on_Cesario_, who was extremely pleased to meet him there, and theyexchanged their souls to each other, and all the secrets of them. After they had discoursed of all that they had a mind to hear and knowon both sides, _Cesario_ inquired of him of _Sylvia_'s health; and_Philander_ gave him an account of the uneasiness of her temper, andthe occasions of their quarrels, in which _Octavio_ had his part, asbeing the subject of some of them: from this he falls to give acharacter of that rival, and came to this part of it, where he had puthimself into the Orders of the _Bernardines_, resolving to leave theworld, and all its charms and temptations. As they were speaking, somegentlemen, who came to make their court to the Prince, finding themspeak of _Octavio_, told them that to-morrow he was to be initiated, without the year's trial; the Prince would needs go and see theceremony, having heard so much of the man; and accordingly next day, accompanied with the Governor, _Philander, Tomaso_, and abundance ofpersons of quality and officers, he went to the great church, wherewere present all the ladies of the Court, and all that were in thetown. The noise of it was so great, that _Sylvia_, all languishing, and ill as she was, would not be persuaded from going, but so muffledin her hoods, as she was not to be known by any. 

Never was any thing so magnificent as this ceremony, the church was onno occasion so richly adorned; _Sylvia_ chanced to be seated near thePrince of _Mechlenburgh_, who was then in _Brussels_, and at theceremony; sad as she was, while the soft music was playing, shediscoursed to him, though she knew him not, of the business of theday: he told her, she was to see a sight, that ought to make her sexless cruel; a man extremely beautiful and young, whose fortune couldcommand almost all the pleasures of the world; yet for the love of themost amiable creature in the world, who has treated him with rigour, he abandons this youth and beauty to all the severity of rigiddevotion: this relation, with a great deal he said of _Octavio_'svirtues and bravery, had like to have discovered her by putting herinto a swoon; and she had much ado to support herself in her seat. Imyself went among the rest to this ceremony, having, in all the time Ilived in _Flanders_, never been so curious to see any such thing. TheOrder of St _Bernard_ is one of the neatest of them, and there is amonastery of that Order, which are obliged to be all noblemen's sons;of which I have seen fifteen hundred at a time in one house, allhandsome, and most of them young; their habit adds a grace to theirperson, for of all the Religious, that is the most becoming: longwhite vests of fine cloth, tied about with white silk sashes, or acord of white silk; over this a long cloak without a cape, of the samefine white broad cloth; their hair of a pretty length, as that of ourpersons in _England_, and a white beaver; they have very fineapartments, fit for their quality, and above all, every one theirlibrary; they have attendance and equipage according to their rank, and have nothing of the inconveniencies and slovenliness of some ofthe Religious, but served in as good order as can be, and they havenothing of the monastic, --but the name, the vow of chastity, and theopportunity of gaining heaven, by the sweetest retreat in the world, fine house, excellent air, and delicate gardens, grottoes and groves. It was this Order that _Octavio_ had chosen, as too delicate toundertake the austerity of any other; and in my opinion, it is here aman may hope to become a saint sooner than in any other, moreperplexed with want, cold, and all the necessaries of life, whichtakes the thought too much from heaven, and afflicts it with the caresof this world, with pain and too much abstinence: and I rather thinkit is necessity than choice, that makes a man a _Cordelier_, that maybe a _Jesuit_, or _Bernardine_, to the best of the _Holy Orders_. But, to return, it was upon a _Thursday_ this ceremony began; and, as Isaid, there was never any thing beheld so fine as the church that daywas, and all the Fathers that officiated at the high-altar; behindwhich a most magnificent scene of glory was opened, with clouds mostrarely and artificially set off, behind which appeared new ones morebright and dazzling, till from one degree to another, their lustre washardly able to be looked on; and in which sat an hundred little angelsso rarely dressed, such shining robes, such charming faces, suchflowing bright hair, crowned with roses of white and red, with suchartificial wings, as one would have said they had borne the body up inthe splendid sky; and these to soft music, turned their soft voiceswith such sweetness of harmony, that, for my part, I confess, Ithought myself no longer on earth; and sure there is nothing gives anidea of real heaven, like a church all adorned with rare pictures, andthe other ornaments of it, with whatever can charm the eyes; andmusic, and voices, to ravish the ear; both which inspire the soul withunresistible devotion; and I can swear for my own part, in thosemoments a thousand times I have wished to die; so absolutely had Iforgot the world, and all its vanities, and fixed my thoughts onheaven. While this music continued, and the anthems were singing, fifty boys all in white, bearing silver censers, cast incense allround, and perfumed the place with the richest and most agreeablesmells, while two hundred silver lamps were burning upon the altar, togive a greater glory to the opened scene, whilst other boys strewedflowers upon the inlaid pavement, where the gay victim was to tread;for no crowd of gazers filled the empty space, but those that werespectators, were so placed, as rather served to adorn than disorderthe awful ceremony, where all were silent, and as still as death; asawful, as mourners that attend the hearse of some loved monarch: whilewe were thus listening, the soft music playing, and the angelssinging, the whole fraternity of the Order of St _Bernard_ came in, two by two, in a very graceful order; and going up to the shiningaltar, whose furniture that day was embroidered with diamonds, pearls, and stones of great value, they bowed and retired to their places, into little gilded stalls, like our Knights of the Garter at_Windsor_: after them, fifty boys that sang approached in order to thealtar, bowed, and divided on each side; they were dressed in whitecloth of silver, with golden wings and rosy chaplets: after these theBishop, in his pontific robes set with diamonds of great price, andhis mitre richly adorned, ascended the altar, where, after a shortanthem, he turned to receive the young devotee, who was just enteredthe church, while all eyes were fixed on him: he was led, or rather, on each side attended with two young noblemen, his relations; and Inever saw any thing more rich in dress, but that of _Octavio_ exceededall imagination, for the gaiety and fineness of the work: it was whitecloth of silver embroidered with gold, and buttons of diamonds; linedwith rich cloth of gold and silver flowers, his breeches of the same, trimmed with a pale pink garniture; rich linen, and a white plume inhis white hat: his hair, which was long and black, was that day in thefinest order that could be imagined; but, for his face and eyes, I amnot able to describe the charms that adorned them; no fancy, noimagination, can paint the beauties there: he looked indeed, as if hewere made for heaven; no mortal ever had such grace: he lookedmethought, as if the gods of love had met in council to dress him upthat day for everlasting conquest; for to his usual beauties he seemedto have the addition of a thousand more; he bore new lustre in hisface and eyes, smiles on his cheeks, and dimples on his lips: hemoved, he trod with nobler motions, as if some supernatural influencehad took a peculiar care of him: ten thousand sighs, from all sides, were sent him, as he passed along, which, mixed with the soft music, made such a murmuring, as gentle breezes moving yielding boughs: I amassured, he won that day more hearts, without design, than ever he hadgained with all his toils of love and youth before, when industryassisted him to conquer. In his approach to the altar, he made threebows; where, at the foot of it on the lower step, he kneeled, and thenHigh-Mass began; in which were all sorts of different music, and thatso excellent, that wholly ravished with what I saw and heard, Ifancied myself no longer on earth, but absolutely ascended up to theregions of the sky. All I could see around me, all I heard, wasravishing and heavenly; the scene of glory, and the dazzling altar;the noble paintings, and the numerous lamps; the awfulness, the music, and the order, made me conceive myself above the stars, and I had nopart of mortal thought about me. After the holy ceremony wasperformed, the Bishop turned and blessed him; and while an anthem wassinging, _Octavio_, who was still kneeling, submitted his head to thehands of a Father, who, with a pair of scissors, cut off his delicatehair; at which a soft murmur of pity and grief filled the place: thosefine locks, with which _Sylvia_ had a thousand times played, and woundthe curls about her snowy fingers, she now had the dying grief, forher sake, for her infidelity, to behold sacrificed to her cruelty, anddistributed among the ladies, who, at any price, would purchase acurl: after this they took off his linen, and his coat, under which hehad a white satin waistcoat, and under his breeches drawers of thesame. Then, the Bishop took his robes, which lay consecrated on thealtar, and put them on, and invested him with the holy robe: thesinging continuing to the end of the ceremony; where, after an anthemwas sung (while he prostrated himself before the altar) he arose, andinstead of the two noblemen that attended him to the altar, two_Bernardines_ approached, and conducted him from it, to the seats ofevery one of the Order, whom he kissed and embraced, as they cameforth to welcome him to the Society. It was with abundance of tearsthat every one beheld this transformation; but _Sylvia_ swoonedseveral times during the ceremony, yet would not suffer herself to becarried out; but _Antonet_ and another young lady of the house whereshe lodged, that accompanied her, did what they could to conceal herfrom the public view. For my part, I swear I was never so affected inmy life with any thing, as I was at this ceremony; nor ever found myheart so oppressed with tenderness; and was myself ready to sink whereI sat, when he came near me, to be welcomed by a Father that sat nextto me: after this, he was led by two of the eldest Fathers to hisapartment, and left a thousand sighing hearts behind him. Had he died, there had not been half that lamentation; so foolish is the mistakenworld to grieve at our happiest fortune; either when we go to heavenor retreat from this world, which has nothing in it that can reallycharm, without a thousand fatigues to attend it: and in this retreat, I am sure, he himself was the only person that was not infinitelyconcerned; who quitted the world with so modest a bravery, so entire ajoy, as no young conqueror ever performed his triumphs with more. 

The ceremony being ended, _Antonet_ got _Sylvia_ to her chair, concerned even to death; and she vowed afterwards she had much ado towith-hold herself from running and seizing him at the altar, andpreventing his fortune and design, but that she believed _Philander_would have resented it to the last degree, and possibly have made itfatal to both herself and _Octavio_. It was a great while before shecould recover from the indisposition to which this fatal andunexpected accident had reduced her: but, as I have said, she was notof a nature to die for love; and charming and brave as _Octavio_ was, it was perhaps her interest, and the loss of his considerable fortunethat gave her the greatest cause of grief. Sometimes she vainlyfancied that yet her power was such, that with the expense of onevisit, and some of her usual arts, which rarely fail, she had power towithdraw his thoughts from heaven, and fix them all on herself again, and to make him fly those enclosures to her more agreeable arms: butagain she wisely considered, though he might be retrieved, his fortunewas disposed of to holy uses, and could never be so. This last thoughtmore prevailed upon her, and had more convincing reason in it, thanall that could besides oppose her flame; for she had this wretchedprudence, even in the highest flights and passions of her love, tohave a wise regard to interest; insomuch, that it is most certain, sherefused to give herself up entirely even to _Philander_; him, whom onewould have thought nothing but perfect love, soft irresistible love, could have compelled her to have transgressed withal, when so manyreasons contradicted her passion: how much more then ought we tobelieve, that interest was the greatest motive of all herafter-passions? However, this powerful motive failed not to beget inher all the pains and melancholies that the most violent of passionscould do: but _Brilliard_, who loved her to a greater degree thanever, strove all he could to divert the thoughts of a grief, for whichthere was no remedy; and believed, if he could get her out of_Brussels_, retired to the little town, or rather village, where hewas first made happy, and where _Philander_ still believed her to be, he should again re-assume that power over her heart he had before: inthis melancholy fit of hers he proposed it, urging the danger heshould be in for obeying her, should _Philander_ once come to knowthat she was in _Brussels_; and that possibly she would not find socivil a treatment as he ought to pay her, if he should come to theknowledge of it: besides these reasons, he said, he had some ofgreater importance, which he must not discover till she were withdrawnfrom _Brussels_: but there needed not much to persuade her to retire, in the humour she then was; and with no opposition on her side, shetold him, she was ready to go where he thought fit; and accordinglythe next day they departed the town, and in three more arrived to thevillage. In all this journey _Brilliard_ never approached her but withall the respect imaginable, but withal, with abundance of silentpassion: which manner of carriage obliged _Sylvia_ very often to takenotice of it, with great satisfaction and signs of favour; and as hesaw her melancholy abate, he increased in sighing and lover'sboldnesses: yet with all this, he could not oblige her to thosereturns he wished: when, after ten days' stay, _Philander_ writ to himto inquire of his health, and of _Sylvia_, to whom he sent a very kindgood-natured letter, but no more of the lover, than if there had neverbeen such a joy between them: he begged her to take care of herself, and told her, he would be with her in ten or fifteen days; and desiredher to send him _Brilliard_, if he were not wholly necessary to herservice; for he had urgent affairs to employ him in: so that_Brilliard_, not being able longer with any colour to defend his stay, writ him word he would wait on him in two days; which short time hewholly employed in the utmost endeavour to gain _Sylvia_'s favour; butshe, whose thoughts were roving on new designs, which she thought fitto conceal from a lover, still put him off with pretended illness, andthoughtfulness on the late melancholy object and loss of _Octavio_:but assured him, as soon as she was recovered of that pressure, shewould receive him with the same joy she had before, and which hisperson and his services merited from her; it was thus she soothed thehoping lover, who went away with all the satisfaction imaginable, bearing a letter from _Sylvia_ to _Philander_, written with all theart of flattery. _Brilliard_ was no sooner gone, but _Sylvia_, whosehead ran on new adventures, resolved to try her chance; and being, whenever she pleased, of a humour very gay, she resolved upon adesign, in which she could trust no body but her page, who loved hislady to the last degree of passion, though he never durst shew it evenin his looks or sighs; and yet the cunning _Sylvia_ had by chancefound his flame, and would often take delight to torture the pooryouth, to laugh at him: she knew he would die to serve her, and shedurst trust him with the most important business of her life: shetherefore the next morning sends for him to her chamber, which sheoften did, and told him her design; which was, in man's clothes to goback to _Brussels_, and see if they could find any adventures by theway that might be worth the journey, and divert them: she told him shewould trust him with all her secrets; and he vowed fidelity. She bidhim bring her a suit of those clothes she used to wear at her firstarrival at _Holland_, and he looked out one very fine, and which shehad worn that day she went to have been married to _Octavio_, when the_States'_ messengers took her up for a _French_ spy, a suit_Philander_ had never seen: she equips herself, and leaving in chargewith _Antonet_ what to say in her absence, and telling her she wasgoing upon a frolic to divert herself a day or two; she, accompaniedby her page only, took horse and made away towards _Brussels_: youmust know, that the half-way stage is a very small village, in whichthere is most lamentable accommodation, and may vie with any part of_Spain_ for bad inns. _Sylvia_, not used much to riding as a man, waspretty well tired by that time she got to one of those _hotels_; and, as soon as she alighted, she went to her chamber to refresh and coolherself; and while the page was gone to the kitchen to see what therewas to eat, she was leaning out of the window, and looking on thepassengers that rode along, many of which took up in the same house. Among them that alighted, there was a very handsome young gentleman, appearing of quality, attended only by his page. She considered thisperson a little more than the rest, and finding him so unaccompanied, had a curiosity, natural to her, to know who he was: she ran toanother window that looked into the yard, a kind of balcony, and sawhim alight, and look at her; and saluted her in passing into thekitchen, seeing her look like a youth of quality: coming in, he sawher page, and asked if he belonged to that young cavalier inthe gallery; the page told him he did: and being asked who he was, he told him he was a young nobleman of _France_; a stranger to allthose parts, and had made an escape from his tutors; and said he wasof a humour never to be out of his way; all places being alike to himin those little adventures. So leaving him (with yet a greatercuriosity) he ran to _Sylvia_, and told her what had passed betweenthe young stranger and him: while she, who was possessed with the sameinquisitive humour, bid him inquire who he was; when the master of the_hotel_ coming in the interim up to usher in her supper, she inquiredof him who that young stranger was; he told her, one of the greatestpersons in _Flanders_; that he was nephew to the Governor, and who hada very great equipage at other times; but that now he was _incognito_, being on an intrigue: this intrigue gave _Sylvia_ new curiosity; andhoping the master would tell him again, she fell into great praises ofhis beauty and his mien; which for several reasons pleased the man ofthe inn, who departed with the good news, and told every word of it tothe young cavalier: the good man having, besides the pleasing him withthe grateful compliments, a farther design in the relation; for hishouse being very full of persons of all sorts, he had no lodgings forthe Governor's nephew, unless he could recommend him to our youngcavalier. The gay unknown, extremely pleased with the character he hadgiven him by so beautiful a gentleman, and one who appeared of so muchquality, being alone, and knowing he was so also, sent a _Spanish_page, that spoke very good _French_, and had a handsome address, andquick wit, to make his compliment to the young _Monsieur_; which wasto beg to be admitted to sup with him; who readily accepted thehonour, as she called it; and the young Governor, whom we must call_Alonzo_, for a reason or two, immediately after entered her chamber, with an admirable address, appearing much handsomer near, than at adistance, though even then he drew _Sylvia_'s eyes with admiration onhim: there were a thousand young graces in his person, sweetnesses inhis face, love and fire in his eyes, and wit on his tongue: hisstature was neither tall nor low, very well made and fashioned; alight-brown hair, hazel eyes, and a very soft and amorous air; abouttwenty years of age: he spoke very good _French_; and after the firstcompliments on either side were over, as on such occasions arenecessary; in which on both sides were nothing but great expressionsof esteem, _Sylvia_ began so very well to be pleased with the fairstranger, that she had like to have forgot the part she was to act, and have made discoveries of her sex, by addressing herself with themodesty and blushes of a woman: but _Alonzo_, who had no suchapprehension, though she appeared with much more beauty than hefancied ever to have seen in a man, nevertheless admired, withoutsuspecting, and took all those signs of effeminacy to unassured youth, and first address; and he was absolutely deceived in her. _Alonzo_'ssupper being brought up, which was the best the bad inn afforded, theysat down, and all the supper time talked of a thousand pleasantthings, and most of love and women, where both expressed abundance ofgallantry for the fair sex. _Alonzo_ related many short and pleasantaccidents and amours he had had with women. 

Though the stranger were by birth a _Spaniard_; yet, while theydiscoursed the glass was not idle, but went as briskly about, as if_Sylvia_ had been an absolute good fellow. _Alonzo_ drinks his and hismistress's health, and _Sylvia_ returned the civility, and so on, tillthree bottles were sacrificed to love and good humour; while she, atthe expense of a little modesty, declared herself so much of theopinion of _Don Alonzo_, for gay inconstancy, and the blessing ofvariety, that he was wholly charmed with a conversation so agreeableto his own. I have heard her page say, from whom I have had a greatpart of the truths of her life, that he never saw _Sylvia_ in sopleasant a humour all his life before, nor seemed so well pleased, which gave him, her lover, a jealousy that perplexed him above anything he had ever felt from love; though he durst not own it. But_Alonzo_ finding his young companion altogether so charming (and inhis own way too) could not forbear very often from falling upon hisneck, and kissing the fair disguised, with as hearty an ardour, asever he did one of the other sex: he told her he adored her; she wasdirectly of his principle, all gay, inconstant, galliard and roving, and with such a gusto, he commended the joys of fickle youth, that_Sylvia_ would often say, she was then jealous of him, and envious ofthose who possessed him, though she knew not whom. The more she lookedon him, and heard him speak, the more she fancied him: and wine thatwarmed her head, made her give him a thousand demonstrations of love, that warmed her heart; which he mistook for friendship, havingmistaken her sex. In this fit of beginning love (which is always thebest) and jealousy, she bethought her to ask him on what adventure hehad now been; for he being without his equipage, she believed, shesaid, he was upon some affair of love: he told her there was a lady, within an hour's riding of that place, of quality, and handsome, verymuch courted: amongst those that were of the number of her adorers, hesaid, was a young man of quality of _France_, who called himself_Philander_: this _Philander_ had been about eight days very happy inher favour, and had happened to boast his good fortune the next nightat the Governor's table, where he dined with the Prince _Cesario_. 'Itold him, ' continued _Alonzo_, 'that the person he so boasted of, hadso soon granted him the favour, that I believed she was of a humour tosuffer none to die at her feet: but this, ' said he, '_Philander_thought an indignity to his good parts, and told me, he believed hewas the only man happy in her favour, and that could be so: on this Iventured a wager, at which he coloured extremely, and the companylaughed, which incensed him more; the Prince urged the wager, whichwas a pair of _Spanish_ horses, the best in the Court, on my side, against a discretion on his: this odds offered by me incensed him yetmore; but urged to lay, we ended the dispute with the wager, the bestconclusion of all controversies. He would have known what measures Iwould take; I refused to satisfy him in that; I only swore him uponhonour, that he should not discover the wager, or the dispute to thelady. The next day I went to pay her a visit, from my aunt, theGovernor's lady, and she received me with all the civility in theworld. I seemed surprised at her beauty, and could talk of nothing butthe adoration I had for her, and found her extremely pleased, andvain; of which feeble resistance I made so good advantage, that beforewe parted, being all alone, I received from her all the freedoms, thatI could with any good manners be allowed the first time; she firing mewith kisses, and suffering my closest embraces. Having prospered sowell, I left her for that time, and two days after I made my visitagain; she was a married lady, and her husband was a _Dutch_ Count, and gone to a little government he held under my uncle, so that againI found a free admittance; I told her, it was my aunt's compliment Ibrought before, but that now it was my own I brought, which was thatof an impatient heart, that burnt with a world of fire and flame, andnonsense. In fine, so eager I was, and so pressing for something morethan dull kissing, that she began to retire as fast as she advancedbefore, and told me, after abundance of pressing her to it, that shehad set a price upon her beauty, and unless I understood how topurchase her, it was not her fault if I were not happy. At first I solittle expected it had been money, that I reiterated my vows, andfancied it was the assurance of my heart she meant; but she veryfrankly replied, "Sir, you may spare your pains, and five hundredpistoles will ease you of a great deal of trouble, and be the bestargument of your love. " This generous conscientious humour of hers, ofsuffering none to die that had five hundred pistoles to present for acure, was very good news to me, and I found I was not at all obligedto my youth or beauty, but that a man with half a nose, or a singleeye, or that stunk like an old _Spaniard_ that had dined on rottencheese and garlic, should have been equally as welcome for theaforesaid sum, to this charming insensible. I must confess, I do notlove to chaffer for my pleasure, it takes off the best part of it; andwere I left to my own judgement of its worth, I should hardly haveoffered so sneaking a sum; but that sort of bargaining, was herhumour, and to enjoy her mind, though she had strangely palled me bythis management of the matter: all I had now to do, was to appoint mynight, and bring my money; now was a very proper time for it, herhusband being absent: I took my leave of her, infinitely well pleasedto have gained my point on any terms, with a promise to deliver myselfthere the next night: but she told me, she had a brother to cometo-morrow, whom she would not have see me, and for that reason (beinghowever not willing to delay the receiving her pistoles) she desired Iwould wait at this very house 'till a footman should give me noticewhen to come; accordingly I came, and sent her a billet, that I waitedprepared at all points; and she returned me a billet to this purpose;that her brother with some relations being arrived, as she expected, she begged for her honour's sake, that I would wait till she sent, which should be as soon as they were gone to their chambers; and they, having rid a long journey, would early retire; that she was impatientof the blessing, and should be as well prepared as himself, and thatshe would leave her woman _Letitia_ to give me admittance. ----Thissatisfied me very well; and as I attended her, some of my acquaintancechanced to arrive; with whom I supped, and took so many glasses to herhealth as it passed down, that I was arrived at a very handsome pitch, and to say truth, was as full of _Bacchus_ as of _Venus_. However, assoon as her footman arrived, I stole away, and took horse, and by thattime it was quite dark arrived at her house, where I was led in by ayoung maid, whose habit was very neat and clean, and she herselfappeared to my eyes, then dazzling with wine, the most beautiful youngcreature I had ever seen, as in truth she was; she seemed all modesty, and blushing innocence; so that conducting me into a low parlour, while she went to tell her lady I was come, who lay ready dressed inall the magnificences of night-dress to receive me, I satcontemplating on this fair young maid, and no more thought of her ladythan of _Bethlehem Gaber_. The maid soon returned, and curtseying, told me, with blushes on her face, that her lady expected me; thehouse was still as sleep, and no noise heard, but the little windsthat rushed among the jessamine that grew at the window; now whetherat that moment, the false light in the room, or the true wine deceivedme, I know not; but I beheld this maid as an angel for beauty, andindeed I think she had all the temptations of nature. I began to kissher, and she to tremble and blush; yet not so much out of fear, assurprise and shame at my address. I found her pleased with my vows, and melting at my kisses; I sighed in her bosom, which panted me awelcome there; that bosom whiter than snow, sweeter than the nosegayshe had planted there. She urged me faintly to go to her lady, whoexpected me, and I swore it was for her sake I came (whom I never saw)and that I scorned all other beauties: she kindled at this, and hercheeks glowed with love. I pressed her to all I wished; but shereplied, she was a maid, and should be undone. I told her, I wouldmarry her, and swore it with a thousand oaths; she believed, and grewprettily fond----In fine, at last she yielded to all I asked of her, which we had scarce recovered when her lady rung. I could not stir, but she who feared a surprise ran to her, and told her, I was goneinto the garden, and would come immediately; she hastens down again tome, fires me anew, and pleased me anew; it was thus I taught a longingmaid the first lesson of sin, at the price of fifty pistoles, which Ipresented her; nor could I yet part from this young charmer, butstayed so long, that her lady rung a silver bell again; but my newprize was so wholly taken up with the pleasure of this new amour, andthe good fortune arrived to her, she heard not the bell, so that thefair deceived put on her night-gown and slippers, and came softly downstairs, and found my new love and I closely embracing, with all thepassion and fondness imaginable. I know not what she saw in me in thatkind moment to her woman, or whether the disappointment gave her agreater desire, but it is most certain she fell most desperately inlove with me, and scorning to take notice of the indignity I put uponher, she unseen stole to her chamber; where, after a most afflictingnight, she next morning called her woman to her (whom I left towardsmorning, better pleased with my fifty pistoles worth of beauty, than Ishould have been with that of five hundred): the maid, whose guiltmade her very much unassured, approached her lady with suchtremblings, as she no longer doubted but she was guilty, but durst notexamine her about it, lest she, who had her honour in keeping, should, by the discovery she found she had made of her levity, expose that ofher lady. She therefore dissembled as well as she could, and examinedher about my stay; to which the maid answered, I had fallen asleep, and it was impossible to awake me 'till day appeared; when for fear ofdiscovery I posted away. This, though the lady knew was false, she wasforced to take for current excuse; and more raging with love thanever, she immediately dispatched away her footman with a letter to me, upbraiding me extremely; but, at the same time, inviting me with allthe passion imaginable; and, because I should not again see my youngmistress, who was dying in love with me, she appointed me to meet herat a little house she had, a bow-shot from her own, where was a finedecoy, and a great number of wild-fowl kept, which her husband tookgreat delight in; there I was to wait her coming; where lived only aman and his old wife, her servants: I was very glad of thisinvitation, and went; she came adorned with all her charms. 

I considered her a new woman, and one whom I had a wager to win upon, the conquest of one I had inclination to, till by the discovery of thejilt in her, I began to despise the beauty; however, as I said, shewas new, and now perhaps easy to be brought to any terms, as indeed ithappened; she caressed me with all imaginable fondness; was ready toeat my lips instead of kissing them, and much more forward than Iwished, who do not love an over-easy conquest; however, she pleased mefor three days together, in all which time she detained me there, coming to me early, and staying the latest hour; and I have no reasonto repent my time; for besides that I have passed it very well, she atmy coming away presented me this jewel in my hat, and this ring on myfinger, and I have saved my five hundred pistoles, my heart, and mycredit in the encounter, and am going to _Brussels_ to triumph overthe haughty conceited _Philander_, who set so great a value on his ownbeauty, and yet, for all his fine person, has paid the pistoles, before he could purchase the blessing, as she swore to me, who havemade a convert of her, and reduced her to the thing she never yet was, a lover; insomuch, that she has promised me to renounce _Philander_: Ihave promised to visit her again; but if I do it will be more for thevanity to please, than to be pleased; for I never repeat any thingwith pleasure. ' All the while he spoke, _Sylvia_ fixed her eyes, andall her soft desires upon him; she envies the happy Countess, but muchmore the happy maid, with whom his perfect liking made him happy; shefancies him in her arms, and wishes him there; she is ready a thousandtimes to tell him she is a woman, but, when she reflects on hisinconstancy, she fears. When he had ended his story, she cried, sighing, 'And you are just come from this fair lady?' He answered her, he was sound and heart whole: she replied, 'It is very well you areso, but all the young do not thus escape from beauty, and you may, some time or other, be entrapped. ' 'Oh, ' cried he, 'I defy the powerof one, while heaven has distributed variety to all. ' 'Were you neverin love?' replied Sylvia. 'Never, ' said he, 'that they call love: Ihave burnt and raved an hour or two, or so; pursued, and gazed, andlaid sieges, till I had overcome; but, what is this to love? Did Iever make a second visit, unless upon necessity, or gratitude? Andyet----' and there he sighed; 'and yet, ' said he, 'I saw a beauty onceupon the _Tour_, that has ever since given me torment. ' 'At_Brussels_? said _Sylvia_. 'There, ' replied he; 'she was the fairestcreature heaven ever made, such white and red by nature, such hair, such eyes, and such a mouth!----All youth and ravishing sweetness;--Ipursued her to her lodgings, and all I could get, was, that shebelonged to a young nobleman, who since has taken Orders. From thenight I saw her, I never left her window, but had spies of all sorts, who brought me intelligence, and a little after, I found she hadquitted the place with a new lover, which made me love and rave tentimes more, when I knew assuredly she was a whore--and how fine a oneI had missed. ' This called all the blood to _Sylvia_'s face, and soconfounded her she could not answer; she knew it was herself of whomhe spoke; and that coarse word, though innocently spoken, or rathergaily expressed, put her quite out of countenance; however, sherecovered again, when she considered they were not meant as rudenessesto her. She loved him, and was easy to pardon: with such discoursethey passed the evening till towards bed-time, and the young_Spaniard_, who had taken little rest in three nights before, wantedsome repose; and calling for his chamber, the host besought him, sincethey had the happiness (the young _French_ gentleman and himself) tobe so good friends, that they would share a bed together: 'For intruth, ' said he, 'sir, you must sit up all night else;' he replied, with all his soul, it was the most grateful proposal had been evermade him; and addressing himself to _Sylvia_, asked him if he wouldallow him that blessing: she blushed extremely at the question, andhung down her eyes, and he laughed to see it: 'Sir, ' said _Sylvia_, 'Iwill give you my bed, for it is all one to me to lie on a bed, or onthe chairs. ' 'Why, sir, ' said _Alonzo_, 'I am too passionate an adorerof the female sex, to incommode any of my own with addresses; nor am Iso nice, but I can suffer a man to lie by me, especially so dear ayouth as yourself;' at which he embraced her in his arms, which didbut the more raise _Sylvia_'s blushes, who wished for what shedreaded: 'With you, sir, ' said she, 'I could methinks be content to dowhat I do not use to do;' and, fearing to betray her sex, forced aconsent; for either one or the other she was compelled to do; and withthe assurance that he thought her what she seemed, she chose to giveher consent, and they both went to bed together: to add to her deceit(she being forced in her sickness to cut off her hair) when she putoff her periwig she discovered nothing of the woman; nor feared sheany thing but her breasts, which were the roundest and the whitest inthe world; but she was long in undressing, which to colour the matter, she suffered her page to do; who, poor lad, was never in so tremblinga condition, as in that manner to be obliged to serve her, where shediscovered so many charms he never before had seen, but all such asmight be seen with modesty: by that time she came to bed, _Alonzo_ wasfast asleep, being so long kept waking, and never so much as dreamt hehad a woman with him; but she, whose fears kept her waking, had athousand agitations and wishes; so natural it is, when virtue hasbroke the bounds of modesty, to plunge in past all retreat; and, Ibelieve there are very few who retire after the first sin. Sheconsiders her condition in a strange country, her splendour declining, her love for _Philander_ quite reduced to friendship, or hardly that;she was young, and ate and drank well; had a world of vanity, thatfood of desire, that fuel to vice: she saw this the beautifullestyouth she imagined ever to have seen, of quality and fortune able toserve her; all these made her rave with a desire to gain him for alover, and she imagined as all the vain and young do, that though nocharms had yet been able to hold him, she alone had those that would;her glass had a thousand times told her so; she compares him to_Octavio_, and finds him, in her opinion, handsomer; she was possessedwith some love for _Philander_, when he first addressed to her, and_Octavio_ shared at best but half a heart; but now, that she had lostall for _Philander_ and _Octavio_, and had a heart to cast away, orgive a new lover; it was like her money, she hated to keep it, andlavished it on any trifle, rather than hoard it, or let it lie by: itwas a loss of time her youth could not spare; she, after reflection, resolved, and when she had resolved, she believed it done. By a candleshe had by her, to read a little novel she had brought, she surveyedhim often, as curiously as _Psyche_ did her _Cupid_, and though heslept like a mere mortal, he appeared as charming to her eyes as thewinged god himself; and it is believed she wished he would awake andfind by her curiosity, her sex: for this I know, she durst no longertrust herself a-bed with him, but got up, and all the last part of thenight walked about the room: her page lay in the room with her, by herorder, on the table, with a little valise under his head, which hecarried _Sylvia_'s linen in; she awoke him, and told him all herfears, in a pleasant manner. In the morning _Alonzo_ awakes, andwonders to find her up so soon, and reproached her for the unkindness;new protestations on both sides passing of eternal friendship, theyboth resolved for _Brussels_; but, lest she should encounter_Philander_ on the way, who possibly might be on visiting his _Dutch_countess, she desired him to ride on before, and to suffer her to losethe happiness of his company, till they met in _Brussels_: with muchado he consents, and taking the ring the countess gave him, from offhis finger, 'Sir, ' said he, 'be pleased to wear this, and if ever youneed my fortune, or my sword, send it, and in what part of the worldsoever I am, I will fly to your service. ' _Sylvia_ returned him alittle ring set round with diamonds, that Philander in his wooing timehad given her, amongst a thousand of finer value: his name and herswere engraven instead of a posie in it; which was only _Philander_ and_Sylvia_, and which he took no notice of, and parted from each otherin the tenderest manner, that two young gentlemen could possibly beimagined to do, though it were more than so on her side; for she wasmadly in love with him. 

As soon as _Sylvia_ came to _Brussels_, she sent in the evening tosearch out _Brilliard_, for she had discovered, if he should come tothe knowledge of her being in town, and she should not send to him, hewould take it so very ill, that he might prevent all her designs andrambles, the now joy of her heart; she knew she could make him herslave, her pimp, her any thing, for love, and the hope of her favour, and his interest might defend her; and she should know all_Philander_'s, motions, whom now, though she loved no more, shefeared. She found him, and he took her lodgings, infinitely pleased atthe trust she reposed in him, the only means by which he could arriveto happiness. She continues her man's habit, and he supplied the placeof _valet_, dressed her and undressed her, shifted her linen everyday; nor did he take all these freedoms, without advancing a littlefarther upon occasion and opportunity, which was the hire she gavehim, to serve her in more lucky amours; the fine she paid to livefree, and at ease. She tells him her adventure, which, though it weredaggers to his heart, was, however, the only way to keep her his own;for he knew her spirit was too violent to be restrained by any means. At last, she told him her design upon a certain young man of quality, who she told him, was the same she encountered. She assured him it wasnot love or liking, but perfectly interest that made her design uponhim, and that if he would assist her, she would be very kind to him, as a man that had gained very greatly upon her heart. This flatteryshe urged with infinite fondness and art, and he, overjoyed, believedevery word as gospel; so that he promised her the next day to carry abillet to the young _don_: in the mean time, she caused him to supwith her, purposely to give him an account of _Philander_, _Cesario_and _Hermione_, whom she heard was come to _Brussels_, and livedpublicly with the Prince. He told her, it was very true, and that hesaw them every day, nay, every moment together; for he verily believedthey could not live asunder; that _Philander_ was every eveningcaballing there, where all the malcontents of the Reformed Religionhad taken sanctuary, and where the Grand Council was every night held;for some great things were in agitation, and debating how to troublethe repose of all _France_ again with new broils; he told her, thatall the world made their court to _Hermione_, that if any body had anypetitions, or addresses to make to the Prince, it was by her soleinterest; she sat in their closest councils, and heard their gravestdebates; and she was the oracle of the board: the Prince paying herperfect adoration, while she, whose charms of youth were ended, beingturned of thirty, fortified her decays with all the art her wit andsex were capable of, and kept her illustrious lover as perfectly herslave, as if she had engaged him by all those ties that fetter themost circumspect, and totally subdued him to her will, who was, without exception, the most lovely person upon earth; 'and though, madam, you know him so perfectly well, yet I must tell you my opinionof him: he is all the softer sex can wish, and ours admire; he isformed for love and war; and as he is the most amorous and wanton incourts, he is also the most fierce and brave in field; his birth themost elevated, his age arrived to full blown man, adorned with all thespreading glories that charm the fair, and engage the world; and Ihave often heard some of our party say, his person gained him morenumbers to his side, than his cause or quality; for he understood allthe useful arts of popularity, the gracious smile and bow, and allthose cheap favours that so gain upon hearts; and without the expenseof any thing but ceremony, has made the nation mad for his interest, who never otherwise obliged them; and sure nothing is more necessaryin the great, than affability; nor shews greater marks of grandeur, orshall more eternize them, than bowing to the crowd. As the maidenqueen I have read of in _England_, who made herself idolized by thatsole piece of politic cunning, understanding well the stubborn, yetgood nature of the people; and gained more upon them by those littlearts, than if she had parted with all the prerogatives of her Crown. Ah! madam, you cannot imagine what little slights govern the wholeuniverse, and how easy it is for monarchs to oblige. This _Cesario_was made to know, and there is no one so poor an object, who may nothave access to him, and whom he does not send away well pleased, though he do not grant what they ask. He dispatches quickly, which isa grateful virtue in great men; and none ever espoused his interest, that did not find a reward and a protection; it is true, these are allthe tools he is to work with, and he stops at nothing that leads tohis ambition; nor has he done all that lies in the power of man only, to set all _France_ yet in a flame, but he calls up the very devilsfrom hell to his aid, and there is no man famed for necromancy, towhom he does not apply himself; which, indeed, is done by the adviceof _Hermione_, who is very much affected with those sort of people, and puts a great trust and confidence in them. She sent at greatexpense, for a _German_ conjurer, who arrived the other day, and whois perpetually consulting with another of the same sort, a _Scot_ bybirth, called _Fergusano_. He was once in Holy Orders, and still isso, but all his practice is the Black Art; and excellent in it he isreported to be. _Hermione_ undertakes nothing without his advice; andas he is absolutely her creature, so his art governs her, and she thePrince: she holds her midnight conferences with him; and as she isvery superstitious, so she is very learned, and studies this art, taught by this great master _Fergusano_; and so far is this glorioushero bewitched with these sorcerers, that he puts his whole trust inthese conjurations and charms; and so far they have imposed on him, that with an enchanted ointment, which they had prepared for him, heshall be invulnerable, though he should face the mouth of a cannon:they have, at the earnest request of _Hermione_, calculated hisnativity, and find him born to be a king; and, that before twentymoons expire, he shall be crowned in _France_: and flattering his easyyouth with all the vanities of ambition, they have made themselvesabsolutely useful to him. This _Scot_, being a most inveterate enemyto _France_, lets the Prince rest neither night nor day, but is stillinspiring him with new hopes of a crown, and laying him down all thefalse arguments imaginable, to spur the active spirit: my lord is notof the opinion, yet seems to comply with them in Council; he laughs atall the fopperies of charms and incantations; insomuch, that he manytimes angers the Prince, and is in eternal little feuds with_Hermione_. The _German_ would often in these disputes say, he foundby his art, that the stop to the Prince's glory would be his love. This so incensed _Hermione_, and consequently the Prince, that theyhad like to have broke with him, but durst not for fear; he knowingtoo much to be disobliged: on the other side, _Fergusano_ is mostwonderfully charmed with the wit and masculine spirit of _Hermione_, her courage, and the manliness of her mind; and understanding whichway she would be served, resolved to obey her, finding she had anabsolute ascendancy over the Prince, whom, by this means, he knew heshould get into his sole management. _Hermione_, though she seemed tobe possessed so entirely of _Cesario_'s heart, found she had great andpowerful opposers, who believed the Prince lay idling in her arms, andthat possibly she might eclipse his fame, by living at that rate witha woman he had no other pretensions to but love; and many othermotives were urged daily to him by the admirers of his great actions:and she feared, with reason, that some time or other, ambition mightget the ascendancy of love: she, therefore, in her midnightconferences with _Fergusano_, often urged him to shew her that pieceof his art, to make a philtre to retain fleeting love; and not onlykeep a passion alive, but even revive it from the dead. She tells himof her contract with him; she urges his forced marriage, as she waspleased to call it, in his youth; and that he being so young, shebelieved he might find it lawful to marry himself a second time; thatpossibly his Princess was for the interest of the King; and men of hiselevated fortune ought not to be tied to those strictnesses of commonmen, but for the good of the public, sometimes act beyond the mustyrules of law and equity, those politic bands to confine the _mobile_. At this unreasonable rate she pleads her right to _Cesario_, and hehearkens with all attention, and approves so well all she says, thathe resolves, not only to attach the Prince to her by all the force ofthe Black Art, but that of necessary marriage also: this pleased herto the last degree; and she left him, after he had promised her tobring her the philtre by the morning: for it was that she most urged, the other requiring time to argue with him, and work him by degrees toit. Accordingly, the next morning he brings her a tooth-pick-case ofgold, of rare infernal workmanship, wrought with a thousand charms, ofthat force, that every time the Prince should touch it, and while hebut wore it about him, his fondness should not only continue, butincrease, and he should hate all womankind besides, at least in theway of love, and have no power to possess another woman, though shehad all the attractions of nature. He tells her the Prince could neversuspect so familiar a present, and for the fineness of the work, itwas a present for a Prince; 'For, ' said he, 'no human art could frameso rare a piece of workmanship; that nine nights the most delicate ofthe Infernals were mixing the metal with the most powerful of charms, and watched the critical minutes of the stars, in which to form themystic figures, every one being a spell upon the heart, of thatunerring magic, no mortal power could ever dissolve, undo, orconquer. ' The only art now was in giving it, so as to oblige him neverto part with it; and she, who had all the cunning of her sex, undertook for that part; she dismissed her infernal confidant, andwent to her _toilet_ to dress her, knowing well, that the Prince wouldnot be long before that he came to her: she laid the tooth-pick-casedown, so as he could not avoid seeing it: the Prince came immediatelyafter in, as he ever used to do night and morning, to see her dressher; he saw this gay thing on the table, and took it in his hand, admiring the work of it, as he was the most curious person in theworld: she told him, there was not a finer wrought thing in the world, and that she had a very great esteem for it, it being made by the_Sybils_; and bid him mind the antiqueness of the work: the more shecommended it, the more he liked it, and told her, she must let himcall it his: she told him, he would give it away to the nextcommender: he vowed he would not: she told him then he should not onlycall it his, but it should in reality be so; and he vowed it should bethe last thing he would part with in the world. From that time forwardshe found, or thought she found, a more impatient fondness in him thanshe had seen before: however it was, she ruled and governed him as shepleased; and indeed never was so great a slave to beauty, as, in myopinion, he was to none at all; for she is far from having any naturalcharms; yet it was not long since it was absolutely believed by all, that he had been resolved to give himself wholly up to her arms; tohave sought no other glory, than to have retired to a corner of theworld with her, and changed all his crown of laurel for those ofroses: but some stirring spirits have roused him anew, and awakenedambition in him, and they are on great designs, which possibly 'erelong may make all _France_ to tremble; yet still _Hermione_ isoppressed with love, and the effects of daily increasing passion. Hehas perpetual correspondence with the party in _Paris_, and advice ofall things that pass; they let him know they are ready to receive himwhenever he can bring a force into _France_; nor needs he anyconsiderable number, he having already there, in every place throughwhich he shall pass, all, or the most part of the hearts and hands athis devotion; and they want but arms, and they shall gather as theygo: they desire he will land himself in some part of the kingdom, andit would be encouragement enough to all the joyful people, who willfrom all parts flock together. In fine, he is offered all assistanceand money; and lest all the forces of _France_ should be bent againsthim, he has friends, of great quality and interest, that are resolvedto rise in several places of the kingdom, in _Languedoc_ and_Guyenne_, whither the King must be obliged to send his forces, or agreat part of them; so that all this side of _France_ will be leftdefenceless. I myself, madam, have some share in this great design, and possibly you will one day see me a person of a quality sufficientto merit those favours I am now blessed with. ' 'Pray, ' replied_Sylvia_, smiling with a little scorn, 'what part are you to play toarrive at this good fortune?' 'I am, ' said he, 'trusted to provide allthe ammunition and arms, and to hire a vessel to transport them tosome sea-port town in _France_, which the Council shall think mostproper to receive us. ' _Sylvia_ laughed, and said, she prophesiedanother end of this high design than they imagined; but desperatefortunes must take their chance. 'What, ' continued she, 'does not_Hermione_ speak of me, and inquire of me?' 'Yes, ' replied_Brilliard_; 'but in such a way, as if she looked on you as a lostcreature, and one of such a reputation, she would not receive a visitfrom for all the world. ' At this _Sylvia_ laughed extremely, andcried, '_Hermione_ would be very well content to be so mean a sinneras myself, to be so young and so handsome a one. However, ' said she, 'to be serious, I would be glad to know what real probability there isin advancing and succeeding in this design, for I would take mymeasures accordingly, and keep _Philander_, whose wavering, or ratherlost fortune, is the greatest motive of my resolves to part with him, and that have made me so uneasy to him. ' _Brilliard_ told her, he wasvery confident of the design, and that it was almost impossible tomiscarry in the discontent all _France_ was in at this juncture; andthey feared nothing but the Prince's relapsing, who, now, mostcertainly preferred love to glory. He farther told her, that as theywere in Council, one deputed from the _Parisians_ arrived with newoffers, and to know the last result of the Prince, whether he wouldespouse their interest or not, as they were with life and fortuneready to espouse his glory. 'They sent him word, it was from him theyexpected liberty, and him whom they looked upon as their tutelardeity. Old _Fergusano_ was then in Council, that _Highland_ wizardthat manages all, and who is ever at hand to awaken mischief, alarmedthe Prince to new glories, reproaching his scandalous life, withaltelling him, there were measures to be taken to reconcile love andfame; and which he was to discourse to him about in his closet only;but as things were, he bid him look into the story of _Armida_ and_Renaldo_, and compare his own with it, and he doubted not, but hewould return blushing at his remissness and sloth: not that he wouldexempt his youth from the pleasures of love, but he would not havelove hinder his glory: this bold speech before _Hermione_ had like tohave begot an ill understanding; but she was as much for the Prince'sglory as _Fergusano_, and therefore could not be angry, when sheconsidered the elevation of the Prince would be her own also: at thisnecessary reproach the Prince blushed; the board seconding the wizard, had this good effect to draw this assurance from him, that they shouldsee he was not so attached to love, but he could for some time give acessation to his heart, and that the envoy from the _Parisians_ mightreturn assured, that he would, as soon as he could put his affairs ingood order, come to their relief, and bring arms for those that hadnone, with such friends as he could get together; he could not promisenumbers, lest by leading so many here, their design should take air, but would wholly trust to fortune, and their good resolutions: hedemanded a sum of money of them for the buying these arms, and theyhave promised him all aids. This is the last result of Council, whichbroke immediately up; and the Prince retired to his closet, where hewas no sooner come, but reflecting on the necessity of leaving_Hermione_, he fell into the most profound melancholy and musing thatcould seize a man; while he sat thus, _Hermione_ (who had schooled_Fergusano_ for his rough speech in Council, and desired he would nowtake the opportunity to repair that want of respect, while the Princewas to be spoken to alone) sent him into the closet to him; where hefound him walking with his arms a-cross, not minding the bard whostood gazing on him, and at last called to him; and finding no reply, he advanced, and pulling him gently by the arm, cried, --"Awake royalyoung man, awake! and look up to coming greatness"--"I wasreflecting, " replied _Cesario_, "on all the various fortunes I havepassed, from the time of my birth to this present hapless day, andwould be glad to know if any supernatural means can tell me whatfuture events will befall me? If I believed I should not gain a crownby this great enterprise I am undertaking, here I would lay me down insilent ease, give up my toils and restless soul to love, and neverthink on vain ambition more: ease thou my troubled mind, if thou hastany friend among the Infernals, and they dare utter truth. " "Mygracious Prince, " replied the fawning wizard, "this night, if you dareloose yourself from love, and come unattended to my apartment, I willundertake to shew you all the future fortune you are to run, thehazards, dangers, and escapes that attend your mighty race of life; Iwill lay the adamantine Book before you, where all the destinies ofprinces are hieroglyphick'd. I will shew you more, if hell can furnishobjects, and you dare stand untrembling at the terror of them. ""Enough, " replied _Cesario_, "name me the hour. " "Betwixt twelve andone, " said he; "for that is the sacred dismal time of night for fiendsto come, tombs to open and let loose their dead. --We shall have use ofboth----" "No more, " replied _Cesario_, "I will attend them. " ThePrince was going out, when _Fergusano_ recalled him, and cried, "Onething, sir, I must caution you, that from this minute to that, whereinI shall shew you your destiny, you commit nothing unlawful withwomen-kind. " "Away, " replied the Prince, smiling, "and leave yourcanting. " The wizard, putting on a more grave countenance, replied--"By all the Infernals, sir, if you commit unlawful things Icannot serve you. " "If your devils, " replied the Prince, laughing, "beso nice, I doubt I shall find them too honest for my purpose. " "Sir, "said the subtle old fiend, "such conscientious devils Your Highness isto converse with to-night; and if you discover the secret, it will Inot prove so lucky. " "Since they are so humorous, " cried _Cesario_, "Iwill give them way for once. " And going out of the room, he wentdirectly to _Hermione_'s apartment; where, it being late, she ispreparing for bed, and with a thousand kisses, and hanging on hisneck, she asked him why he is so slow, and why he suffers not himselfto be undressed? He feigns a thousand excuses, at which she seemsextremely amazed; she complains, reproaches, and commands----He tellsher, he was to wait on the Governor about his most urgent affairs, andwas (late as it was) to consult with him: she asked him what affairshe was to negotiate, of which she was not to bear her part? He refusesto tell her, and she replied she had sense and courage for anyenterprise, and should resent it very ill, if she were not madeacquainted with it: but he swore I to her she should know all thetruth, as soon as he returned. 

'This pacified her in some measure, and at the hour appointed shesuffered him to go; and in a chair was carried to a little house_Fergusano_ had taken without the town, to which belonged a largegarden, at the farther end of which was a thicket of unordered trees, that surrounded the grotto, which I passed a good way under theground. It had had some rarities of water-work formerly belonging toit, but now they were decayed; only here and there a broken rock letout a little stream, that murmured and dashed upon the earth below, and ran away in a little rivulet, which served to add a melancholy tothe dismal place: into this the Prince was conducted by the old_German_, who assisted in the charm; they had only one torch to lightthe way, which at the entrance of the cave they put out, and withinwas only one glimmering lamp, that rather served to add to the horrorof the vault, discovering its hollowness and ruins. At his entrance, he was saluted with a noise like the rushing of wind, which whizzedand whistled in the mighty concave. Anon a more silent whisperingsurrounded him, without being able to behold any creature save the old_German_. Anon came in old _Fergusano_, who rolling a great stone, that lay at one corner of the cave, he desired the Prince to placehimself on it, and not be surprised at any thing he should behold, norto stir from that enchanted ground; he, nodding, assented to obey, while _Fergusano_ and the _German_, with each a wand in their hands, struck against the unformed rocks that finished the end of the cave, muttering a thousand incantations, with voices dreadful, and motionsantic; and, after a mighty stroke of thunder that shook the earth, therude rock divided, and opened a space that discovered a mostmagnificent apartment; in which was presented a young hero, attendedwith military officers; his pages dressing him for the field all ingilded armour. The Prince began to doubt himself, and to swear in histhought, that the apparition was himself, so very like he was tohimself, as if he had seen his proper figure in a glass. After this, several persons seemed to address to this great man, of all sorts andconditions, from the Prince to the peasant, with whom he seemed todiscourse with great confidence and affability; they offered him theLeague, which he took and signed, and gave them back; they attend himto the door with great joy and respect; but as soon as he was gone, they laughed and pointed at him; at which the Prince infinitelyincensed, rose, and cried out, "What means all this; s'death, am Ibecome the scorn and mockery of the crowd?" _Fergusano_ besought himto sit and have patience, and he obeyed, and checked himself. Thescene of the apartment being changed to an arbour of flowers, and theprospect of a noble and ravishing garden, the hero is presented armedas he was, only without his plume head-piece, kneeling at the feet ofa fair woman, in loose robes and hair, and attended with abundance oflittle Loves, who disarm him by degrees of those ornaments of war. While she caresses him with all the signs of love, the _Cupids_ madegarlands of flowers, and wreath round his arms and neck, crowning hishead, and fettering him all over in these sweet soft chains. They curlhis hair, and adorn him with all effeminacy while he lies smiling andpleased, --the wanton boys disposing of his instruments of war as theythink fit, putting them to ridiculous uses, and laughing at them. While thus he lay, there enter to him a great many statesmen, andpoliticians; grave men in furs and chains, attended by the commoncrowd; and opening a scene farther off in prospect, shew him crowns, sceptres, globes, ensigns, arms, and trophies, promiscuously shuffledtogether, with heaps of gold, jewels, parchments, records, chartersand seals; at which sight, he starts from the arms of the fair_Medea_, and strove to have approached those who waited for him; butshe held him fast, and with abundance of tears and sighs of movingflattery, brought him back to her arms again, and all dissatisfied thepromiscuous crowd depart, some looking back with scorn, others withsigns of rage: and all the scene of glory, of arms and crowns, disappeared with the crowd. _Cesario_ wholly forgetting, cried outagain, "Ha! lost all for a trifling woman! Lost all those trophies ofthy conquest for a mistress! By heaven I will shake the charmer frommy soul, if both I cannot have. " When _Fergusano_ advancing to him, cried--"See, sir, how supinely the young hero's laid upon her downybreast, " and smiled as he spoke, which angered the Prince, who repliedwith scorn, "Now, by my life, a plot upon my love;" but they protestedit was not so, and begged he would be silent. While thus the hero lay, regardless of his glory, all decked with flowers and bracelets, thedrums beat, and the trumpets were heard, or seemed to be heard tosound, and a vast opening space was filled with armed warriors, whooffer him their swords, and seem to point at crowns that were bornebehind them; a while they plead in vain, and point to crowns in vain, at which he only casts a scornful smile, and lays him down in the softarms of love. They urge again, but with one amorous look the _Circe_more prevails than all their reasonings. At last, by force theydivested him of his rosy garlands, in which there lay a charm, and heassumes new life, while others bore the enchantress out of his sight;and then he suffered himself to be conducted where they pleased, wholed him forth, shewing him all the way a prospect of crowns. At this_Cesario_ sighed, and the ceremony continued. 

'The scene changed, discovering a sea-shore, where the _hero_ isrepresented landed, but with a very melancholy air, attended withseveral officers and gentlemen; the earth seems to ring with joy andloud acclamations at his approach; vast multitudes thronging to beholdhim, and striving who first should kiss his hand; and bearing himaloft in the air, carry him out of sight with peals of welcome andjoy. 

'He is represented next in Council and deep debate, and so disappears:then soft music is heard, and he enters in the royal robe, with acrown presented him on the knee, which he receives, and bows to allthe rabble and the numbers to give them thanks: he having in his handblue garters, with the order of St _Esprit_, which he distributes toseveral persons on either hand; throwing ducal crowns and coronetsamong the rabble, who scuffle and strive to catch at them: after agreat shout of joy, thunder and lightning again shook the earth; atwhich they seemed all amazed, when a thick black cloud descended, andcovered the whole scene, and the rock closed again, and _Fergusano_let fall his wand. 

'The Prince, seeing the ceremony end here, rises in a rage, and criesout, "I charge you to go on----remove the veil, and let the sunappear; advance your mystic wand, and shew what follows next. " "Icannot, sir, " replied the trembling wizard, "the Fates have closed theeverlasting Book, forbidding farther search. " "Then damn your scantedart, " replied the Prince, "a petty juggler could have done as much. ""Is it not enough, " replied the _German_ rabbi, "that we have shewedyou crowned, and crowned in _France_ itself? I find the Infernalsthemselves are bounded here, and can declare no more. " "Oh, they arepetty powers that can be bounded, " replied the Prince with scorn. Theystrove with all their art to reconcile him, laying the fault on somemistake of theirs, in the ingredients of the charm, which at anothertime they would strive to prevent: they soothe him with all the hopein the world, that what was left unrevealed must needs be as gloriousand fortunate to him, as what he had seen already, which wasabsolutely to be depended on: thus they brought him to the open gardenagain, where they continued their instructions to him, telling him, that now was the time to arrive at all the glories he had seen; theypresented to him the state of affairs in _France_, and how much agreater interest he had in the hearts of the people than their propermonarch, arguing a thousand fallacies to the deluded hero, who blindand mad with his dreams of glory, his visions and prospects, listenedwith reverence and attention to all their false persuasions. I callthem false, madam, for I never had faith in those sort of people, andam sorry so many great men and ladies of our time are so bewitched totheir prophecies. They there presented him with a list of all theconsiderable of the Reformed Religion in _Paris_, who had assured himaids of men and money in this expedition; merchants, rich tradesmen, magistrates and gownmen of the Reformed Church and the law. Next tothis, another of the contribution of pious ladies; all which sumsbeing named, amounted to a considerable supply; so that they assuredhim hell itself could not with these aids obstruct his glory, but onthe contrary, should be compelled to render him assistance, by thehelp of charms, to make him invincible; so that wholly overcome bythem, he has given order that all preparations be forthwith made forthe most secret and speedy conveyance of himself and friends to somesea-port in _France_; he has ordered abundance of letters to be writto those of the _Huguenot_ party in all parts of _France_; all whichwill be ready to assist him at his landing. _Fergusano_ undertakes forthe management of the whole affair, to write, to speak, and topersuade; and you know, madam, he is the most subtle and insinuatingof all his non-conforming race, and the most malignant of all ourparty, and sainted by them for the most pious and industrious labourerin the _Cause_; all that he says is oracle to the crowd, and all hesays authentic; and it is he alone is that great engine that sets thegreat work a turning. ' 'Yes, ' replied _Sylvia_, 'and makes the giddyworld mad with his damnable notions. ' 'Pernicious as he is, ' replied_Brilliard_, 'he has the sole management of affairs under _Hermione_;he has power to treat, to advise, to raise money, to make and nameofficers, and lastly, to draw out a scene of fair pretences for_Cesario_ to the Crown of _France_, and the lawfulness of his claim;for let the conquest be never so sure, the people require it, and theconqueror is obliged to give some better reason than that of thestrength of his sword, for his dominion over them. This pretension isa declaration, or rather a most scandalous, pernicious and treasonablelibel, if I may say so, who have so great an interest in it, pennedwith all the malice envy can invent; the most unbred, rude piece ofstuff, as makes it apparent the author had neither wit nor common goodmanners; besides the hellish principles he has made evident there. Mylord would have no hand in the approbation of this gross piece ofvillainous scandal, which has more unfastened him from their interest, than any other designs, and from which he daily more and moredeclines, or seems disgusted with, though he does not wholly intend toquit the interest; having no other probable means to make good thatfortune, which has been so evidently and wholly destroyed by it. ' 'Iam extremely glad, ' said _Sylvia_, 'that _Philander's_ sentiments areso generous, and am at nothing so much amazed, as to hear the Princecould suffer so gross a thing to pass in his name. ' 'I must, ' said_Brilliard_, 'do the Prince right in this point, to assure you when thething was first in the rough draught shewed him, he told _Fergusano_, that those accusations of a crowned head, were too villainous for thethoughts of a gentleman; and giving it him again--cried--"No--let itnever be said, that the royal blood that runs in my veins, coulddictate to me no more noble ways for its defence and pretensions, thanthe mean cowardice of lies; and that to attain to empire, I shouldhave recourse to the most detestable of all shifts. No, no, my toozealous friend, " continued he, "I will, with only my sword in my hand, at the head of my army proclaim my right, and demand a crown, which ifI win is mine; if not, it is his whose sword is better or luckier; andthough the future world may call this unjust, at least they will sayit was brave. " At this the wizard smiled, and replied, "Alas, sir, hadwe hitherto acted by rules of generosity only, we had not brought sogreat advantages to our interest. You tell me, sir, of a speech youwill make, with your sword in your hand, that will do very well at thehead of an army, and a handsome declaration would be proper for men ofsense; but this is not to the wise, but to the fools, on whom nothingwill pass, but what is penned to their capacity, and who will not beable to hear the speeches you shall make to an army: this is to rousethem, and find them wherever they are, how far remote soever from you, that at once they may be incited to assist you, and espouse yourinterest: this is the sort of gospel they believe; all other is toofine: believe me, sir, it is by these gross devices you are topersuade those sons of earth, whose spirits never mounted above thedunghill, whence they grew like over-ripe pumpkins. Lies are thespirit that inspires them, they are the very brandy that makes themvaliant; and you may as soon beat sense into their brains, as the veryappearance of truth; it is the very language of the scarlet beast tothem. They understand no other than their own, and he that does, knowsto what ends we aim. No matter, sir, what tools you work withal, sothe finished piece be fine at last. Look forward to the goal, a crownattends it! and never mind the dirty road that leads to it. " 'Withsuch false arguments as these, he wrought upon the easy nature of thePrince, who ordered some thousands of them to be printed for theirbeing dispersed all over France, as soon as they should be landed:especially among the _Parisians_, too apt to take any impressions thatbore the stamp and pretence of religion and liberty. 

'While these and all other things necessary were preparing, _Cesario_, wholly given over to love, being urged by _Hermione_ to know theoccasion of his last night's absence, unravels all the secret, andtold my lord and her, one night at supper, the whole scene of the_grotto_; so that _Hermione_, more than ever being puffed up withambitious thoughts, hastened to have the Prince pressed to marry her;and consulting with the counsellor of her closest secrets, sets himanew to work; swearing violently, that if he did not bring that designabout, she should be able, by her ascendancy over _Cesario_, to ruinall those they had undertaken, and yet turn the Prince from theenterprise; and that it was more to satisfy her ambition (to whichthey were obliged for all the Prince had promised) that he hadundertaken to head an army, and put himself again into the hands ofthe _Huguenots_, and forsake all the soft repose of love and life, than for any inclination or ambition of his own; and that she who hadpower to animate him one way, he might be assured had the same poweranother. This she ended in very high language, with a look too fierceand fiery to leave him any doubt of; and he promised all things shouldbe done as she desired, and that he would overcome the Prince, andbring him absolutely under her power. "Not, " said she, with a scornfullook, "that I need your aid in this affair, or want of power of my ownto command it; but I will not have him look upon it as my act alone, or a thing of my seeking, but by your advice shall be made tounderstand it is for the good of the public; that having to do with asort of people of the Reformed Religion, whose pretences were morenice than wise, more seemingly zealous than reasonable or just, theymight look upon the life she led the Prince as scandalous, that wasnot justified by form, though never so unlawful. " A thousand thingsshe urged to him, who needed no instruction how to make that appearauthentic and just, however contrary to religion and sense: but, soinformed, he parted from her, and told her the event should declarehis zeal for her service, and so it did; for he no sooner spoke of itto the Prince, but he took the hint as a divine voice; his very soulflushed in his lovely cheeks, and all the fire of love was dancing inhis eyes: yet, as if he had feared what he wished could not handsomelyand lawfully be brought to pass, he asked a thousand questionsconcerning it, all which the subtle wizard so well resolved, at leastin his judgement, who easily was convinced of what he wished, that heno longer deferred his happiness, but that very night, in the visit hemade _Hermione_, fell at her feet, and implored her consent of what hetold her _Fergusano_ had fully convinced him was necessary for hisinterest and glory, neither of which he could enjoy or regard, if shewas not the partner of them; and that when he should go to _France_, and put himself in the field to demand a crown, he should do it withabsolute vigour and resolution, if she were to be seated as queen onthe same throne with him, without whom a cottage would be morepleasant; and he could relish no joys that were not as entirely andimmediately hers as his own: he pleaded impatiently for what shelonged, and would have made her petition for, and all the while shemakes a thousand doubts and scruples only to be convinced andconfirmed by him; and after seeming fully satisfied, he led her into achamber (where _Fergusano_ waited, and only her woman, and hisfaithful confidant _Tomaso_) and married her: since which, she haswholly managed him with greater power than before; takes abundance ofstate, is extremely elevated, I will not say insolent; and though theydo not make a public declaration of this, yet she owns it to all herintimates; and is ever reproaching my lord with his lewd course oflife, wholly forgetting her own; crying out upon infamous women, as ifshe had been all the course of her life an innocent. '

By this time dinner was ended, and _Sylvia_ urged _Brilliard_ todepart with her letter; but he was extremely surprised to find it tobe to the Governor's nephew _Don Alonzo_, who was his lord's friend, and who would doubtless give him an account of all, if he did not shewhim the billet: all these reasons could not dissuade this ficklewanderer, whose heart was at that time set on this young inconstant, at least her inclinations: he tells her that her life would be reallyin danger, if _Philander_ comes to the knowledge of such an intrigue, which could not possibly be carried on in that town without noise; shetells him she is resolved to quit that false injurer of her fame andbeauty; who had basely abandoned her for other women of less merit, even since she had pardoned him the crimes of love he committed at_Cologne_; that while he was in the country with her during the timeof her lying-in, he had given himself to all that would receive himthere; that, since he came away, he had left no beauty unattempted;and could he possibly imagine her of a spirit to bow beneath suchinjuries? No, she would on to all the revenges her youth and beautywere capable of taking, and stick at nothing that led to thatinterest; and that if he did not join with her in her noble design shewould abandon him, and put herself wholly out of his protection: thisshe spoke with a fierceness that made the lover tremble with fear oflosing her: he therefore told her she had reason; and that since shewas resolved, he would confess to her that _Philander_ was the mostperfidious creature in the world; and that _Hermione_, the haughty_Hermione_, who hated naughty women, invited and treated all thehandsome ladies of the Court to balls, and to the Basset-table, andmade very great entertainments, only to draw to her interest all thebrave and the young men; and that she daily gained abundance by thesearts to _Cesario_, and above all strove by these amusements to engage_Philander_, whom she perceived to grow cold in the great concern;daily treating him with variety of beauty; so that there was nogaiety, no gallantry, or play, but at _Hermione_'s, whither all theyouth of both qualities repaired; and it was there the Governor'snephew was every evening to be found. 'Possibly, madam, I had not toldyou this, if the Prince's bounty had not taken me totally off from_Philander_; so that I have no other dependence on him, but that of myrespect and duty, out of perfect gratitude. ' After this, to gain_Brilliard_ entirely, she assured him if his fortune were suitable toher quality, and her way of life, she believed she should devoteherself to him; and though what she said were the least of herthoughts, it failed not to flatter him agreeably, and he sighed withgrief that he could not engage her; all he could get was little enoughto support him fine, which he was always as any person of quality atCourt, and appeared as graceful, and might have had some happy minuteswith very fine ladies, who thought well of him. To salve this defectof want of fortune, he told her he had received a command from_Octavio_ to come to him about settling of a very considerable pensionupon her, and that he had at his investing put money into his aunt'shands, who was a woman of considerable quality, to be disposed of tothat charitable use; and that if she pleased to maintain her rest offame, and live without receiving love-visits from men, she might nowcommand that, which would be a much better and nobler support thanthat from a lover, which would be transitory, and last but as long asher beauty, or a less time, his love. To this she knew not what toanswer, but ready money being the joy of her heart, and the support ofher vanity, she seems to yield to this, having said so much before;and she considered she wanted a thousand things to adorn her beauty, being very expensive; she was impatient till this was performed, anddeferred the sending to _Don Alonzo_, though her thoughts wereperpetually on him. She, by the advice of _Brilliard_, writes a letterto _Octavio_; which was not like those she had before written, but asan humble penitent would write to a ghostly Father, treating him withall the respect that was possible; and if ever she mentioned love, itwas as if her heart had violently, and against her will, burst outinto softness, as still she retained there; and then she would take upagain, and ask pardon for that transgression; she told him it was apassion, which, though she could never extinguish for him, yet that itshould never warm her for another, but she would leave _Philander_ tothe world, and retire where she was not known, and try to make up herbroken fortunes; with abundance of things to this purpose, which hecarried to _Octavio_: he said he could have wished she would haveretired to a monastery, as all the first part of her letter had givenhim hope; and resolved, and retired as he was, he could not read thiswithout extreme confusion and change of countenance. He asked_Brilliard_ a thousand times whether he believed he might trust her, or if she would abandon those ways of shame, that at last lost all: heanswered, he verily believed she would. 'However, ' said _Octavio_, 'itis not my business to capitulate, but to believe and act all things, for the interest and satisfaction of her whom I yet adore;' andwithout further delay, writ to his aunt, to present _Sylvia_ withthose sums he had left for her; and which had been sufficient to havemade her happy all the rest of her life, if her sins of love had notobstructed it. However, she no sooner found herself mistress of soconsiderable a sum, but in lieu of retiring, and ordering her affairsso as to render it for ever serviceable to her, the first thing shedoes, is to furnish herself with new coach and equipage, and to lavishout in clothes and jewels a great part of it immediately; and wasimpatient to be seen on the _Tour_, and in all public places; norcould _Brilliard_ persuade the contrary, but against all good mannersand reason, she flew into most violent passions with him, till he hadresolved to give her her way; it happened that the first day sheshewed on the _Tour_, neither _Philander_, _Cesario_ nor _Hermione_chanced to be there; so that at supper it was all the news, howglorious a young creature was seen only with one lady, which was_Antonet_, very well dressed, in the coach with her: every body thatmade their court that night to _Hermione_ spoke of this new vision, asthe most extraordinary charmer that had ever been seen; all were thatday undone with love, and none could learn who this fair destroyerwas; for all the time of _Sylvia_'s being at _Brussels_ before, herbeing big with child had kept her from appearing in all public places;so that she was wholly a new face to all that saw her; and it is easyto be imagined what charms that delicate person appeared with to all, when dressed to such advantage, who naturally was the most beautifulcreature in the world, with all the bloom of youth that could add tobeauty. Among the rest that day that lost their hearts, was theGovernor's nephew, who came into the Presence that night whollytransported, and told _Hermione_ he died for the lovely charmer he hadthat day seen; so that she, who was the most curious to gain all thebeauties to her side, that the men might be so too, endeavoured allshe could to find out where this beauty dwelt. _Philander_, now grownthe most amorous and gallant in the world, grew passionately in lovewith the very description of her, not imagining it had been _Sylvia_, because of her equipage: he knew she loved him, at least he thoughtshe loved him too well to conceal herself from him, or be in_Brussels_, and not let him know it; so that wholly ravished with thedescription of the imagined new fair one, he burnt with desire ofseeing her; and all this night was passed in discourse of thisstranger alone; the next day her livery being described to _Hermione_, she sent two pages all about the town, to see if they could discover alivery so remarkable; and that if they did, they should inquire ofthem who they belonged to, and where that person's lodging was. Thiswas not a very difficult matter to perform: _Brussels_ is not a largeplace, and it was soon surveyed from one end to the other: at lastthey met with two of her footmen, whom they saluted, and taking noticeof their livery, asked them who they belonged to? These lads werestrangers to the lady they served, and newly taken; and _Sylvia_ atfirst coming, resolved to change her name, and was called Madamede----, a name very considerable in _France_, which they told thepages, and that she lived in such a place: this news _Hermione_ nosooner heard, but she sends a gentleman in the name of the Prince andherself to compliment her, and tell her she had the honour to knowsome great persons of that name in _France_, and did not doubt but shewas related to them: she therefore sent to offer her her friendship, which possibly in a strange place might not be unserviceable to her, and that she should be extreme glad to see her at Court, that is, at_Cesario_'s palace. The gentleman who delivered this message, beingsurprised at the dazzling beauty of the fair stranger, was almostunassured in his address, and the manner of it surprised _Sylvia_ noless, to be invited as a strange lady by one that hated her; she couldnot tell whether it were real, or a plot upon her; however she madeanswer, and bid him tell Madam the Princess, which title she gave her, that she received her compliment as the greatest honour that couldarrive to her, and that she would wait upon Her Highness, and let herknow from her own mouth the sense she had of the obligation. Thegentleman returned and delivered his message to _Hermione_; but soaltered in his look, so sad and unusual, that she took notice of it, and asked him how he liked the new beauty: he blushed and bowed, andtold her she was a wonder----This made _Hermione_'s colour rise, itbeing spoke before _Cesario_; for though she was assured of the hero'sheart, she hated he should believe there was a greater beauty in theworld, and one universally adored. She knew not how so great a miraclemight work upon him, and began to repent she had invited her to Court. 

In the mean time _Sylvia_, after debating what to do in this affair, whether to visit _Hermione_ and discover herself, or to remove from_Brussels_, resolved rather upon the last; but she had fixed herdesign as to _Don Alonzo_, and would not depart the town. To herformer beginning flame for him was added more fuel; she had seen himthe day before on the _Tour_; she had seen him gaze at her with allthe impatience of love, with madness of passion in his eyes, ready tofling himself out of the coach every time she passed by: and if heappeared beautiful before, when in his riding dress, and harassed forfour nights together with love and want of sleep; what did he nowappear to her amorous eyes and heart? She had wholly forgot _Octavio_, _Philander_ and all, and made a sacrifice of both to this new younglover: she saw him with all the advantages of dress, magnificent asyouth and fortune could invent; and above all, his beauty and hisquality warmed her heart anew; and what advanced her flame yetfarther, was a vanity she had of fixing the dear wanderer, and makinghim find there was a beauty yet in the world, that could put an end tohis inconstancy, and make him languish at her feet as long as shepleased. Resolved on this new design, she defers it no longer; but assoon as the persons of quality, who used to walk every evening in thepark, were got together, she accompanied with _Antonet_, and three orfour strange pages and footmen, went into the park, and dressed inperfect glory. She had not walked long there before she saw _DonAlonzo_, richer than ever in his habit, and more beautiful to her eyesthan any thing she had ever seen; he was gotten among the young andfair, caressing, laughing, playing, and acting all the littlewantonnesses of youth. _Sylvia_'s blood grew disordered at this, andshe found she loved by her jealousy, and longs more than ever to havethe glory of vanquishing that heart, that so boasted of never havingyet been conquered. She therefore uses all her art to get him to lookat her; she passed by him often, and as often as she did so he viewedher with pleasure; her shape, her air, her mien, had something socharming, as, without the assistance of her face, she gained thatevening a thousand conquests; but those were not the trophies sheaimed at, it was _Alonzo_ was the marked-out victim, that shedestined for the sacrifice of love. She found him so engaged withwomen of great quality, she almost despaired to get to speak tohim; her equipage which stood at the entrance of the park, notbeing by her, he did not imagine this fine lady to be her he sawon the _Tour_ last night; yet he looked at her so much, as gaveoccasion to those he was with to rally him extremely, and tell him hewas in love with what he had not seen, and who might, notwithstandingall that delicate appearance, be ugly when her mask was off. _Sylvia_, however, still passed on with abundance of sighing lovers after her, some daring to speak, others only languishing; to all she wouldvouchsafe no word, but made signs, as if she were a stranger, andunderstood them not; at last _Alonzo_, wholly impatient, breaks fromthese ralliers, and gets into the crowd that pursued this lovelyunknown: her heart leaped when he approached her, and the first thingshe did was to pull off her glove, and not only shew the fairest handthat ever nature made, but that ring on her finger _Alonzo_ gave herwhen they parted at the village. The hand alone was enough to inviteall eyes with pleasure to look that way; but _Alonzo_ had a doublemotive, he saw the hand with love, and the ring with jealousy andsurprise; and as it is natural in such cases, the very first thoughtthat possessed him was, that the young _Bellumere_ (for so _Sylvia_had called herself at the village) was a lover of this lady, and hadpresented her this ring. And after his sighings and little pantings, that seized him at this thought, would give him leave, he bowing andblushing cried--'Madam, the whole piece must be excellent, when thepattern is so very fine. ' And humbly begging the favour of a nearerview, he took her hand and kissed it with a passionate eagerness, which possibly did not so well please _Sylvia_, because she did notthink he took her for the same person, to whom he shewed such signs oflove last night. In taking her hand he surveyed the ring, andcried, --'Madam, would to heaven I could lay so good a claim to thisfair hand, as I think I once could to this ring, which this handadorns and honours. ' 'How, sir, ' replied _Sylvia_, 'I hope you willnot charge me with felony?' 'I am afraid I shall, ' replied he sighing, 'for you have attacked me on the King's high-way, and have robbed meof a heart:' 'I could never have robbed a person, ' said _Sylvia_, 'whocould more easily have parted with that trifle; the next fair objectwill redeem it, and it will be very little the worse for my using. ''Ah Madam, ' replied he sighing, 'that will be according as you willtreat it; for I find already you have done it more damage, than itever sustained in all the rencounters it has had with love andbeauty. ' 'You complain too soon, ' replied _Sylvia_, smiling, 'and youought to make a trial of my good nature, before you reproach me withharming you. ' 'I know not, ' replied _Alonzo_ sighing, 'what I mayventure to hope from that; but I am afraid, from your inclinations, Iought to hope for nothing, since a thousand reasonable jealousiesalready possess me, from the sight of that ring; and I more than doubtI have a powerful rival, a youth of the most divine form, I ever metwith of his sex; if from him you received it, I guess my fate. ' 'Iperceive, stranger, ' said _Sylvia_, 'you begin to be inconstantalready, and find excuses to complain on your fate before you havetried your fortune. I persuade myself that fine person you speak of, and to whom you gave this ring, has so great a value for you, that toleave you no excuse, I assure you, he will not be displeased to findyou a rival, provided you prove a very constant lover. ' 'I confess, 'said _Alonzo_, 'constancy is an imposition I never yet had theconfidence and ill nature to impose on the fair; and indeed I neverfound that woman yet, of youth and beauty, that ever set so small avalue on her own charms, to be much in love with that dull virtue, andrequire it of my heart; but, upon occasion, madam, if such anunreasonable fair one be found'----'I am extremely sorry' (interrupted_Sylvia_) 'to find you have no better way of recommending yourself;this will be no great encouragement to a person of my humour toreceive your address. ' 'Madam, I do not tell you that I am not in mynature wondrous constant, ' replied he; 'I tell you only what hashitherto happened to me, not what will; that I have yet never been so, is no fault of mine, but power or truth in those beauties, to whom Ihave given my heart; rather believe they wanted charms to hold me, than that I, (where wit and beauty engaged me) should prove so falseto my own pleasure. I am very much afraid, madam, if I find my eyes asagreeably entertained when I shall have the honour to see your face, as my ears are with your excellent wit, I shall be reduced to thatvery whining, sighing coxcomb, you like so well in a lover, and beever dying at your feet. I have but one hope left to preserve myselffrom this wretched thing you women love; that is, that I shall notfind you so all over charming, as what I have hitherto found presentsitself to be. You have already created love enough in me for anyreasonable woman, but I find you are not to be approached with thecommon devotions we pay your sex; but, like your beauty, the passiontoo must be great, and you are not content unless you see your loversdie; this is that fatal proof alone that can satisfy you of theirpassion. And though you laugh to see a Sir _Courtly Nice_, a fop infashion acted on the stage; in your hearts that foolish thing, thatfine neat pasquil, is your darling, your fine gentleman, yourwell-bred person. '

Thus sometimes in jest, and sometimes in earnest, they recommendedthemselves to each other, and to so great a degree, that it wasimpossible for them to be more charmed on either side, which lasted'till it was time to depart; but he besought her not to do so, 'tillshe had informed him where he might wait on her, and most passionatelysolicit, what she as passionately desired: 'To tell you truth, ' saidshe, 'I cannot permit you that freedom without you ask it of_Bellumere_. ' He replied, 'Next to waiting on her, he should be themost overjoyed in the world, to pay his respects to that younggentleman. ' However, to name him, gave him a thousand fears; whichwhen he would have urged, she bid him trust to the generosity of thatman, who was of quality, and loved him; she then told him his lodgings(which were her own): _Alonzo_, infinitely overjoyed, resolved to loseno time, but promised that evening to visit him: and at their parting, he treated her with so much passionate respect, that she was vexed tosee it paid to one he yet knew not. However, she verily believed herconquest was certain: he having seen her three times, and all thosetimes for a several person, and yet was still in love with her; andshe doubted not, when all three were joined in one, he would be muchmore in love than yet he had been; with this assurance they parted. 

_Sylvia_ was no sooner got home, but she resolved to receive _Alonzo_, who she was assured would come: she hasted to dress herself in a veryrich suit of man's clothes, to receive him as the young _French_gentleman. She believed _Brilliard_ would not come 'till late, as washis use, now being at play at _Hermione_'s. She looked extreme prettywhen she was dressed, and had all the charms that heaven could adorn aface and shape withal: her apartment was very magnificent, and alllooked very great. She was no sooner dressed, but the young lovercame. _Sylvia_ received him on the stair-case with open arms, and allthe signs of joy that could be expressed, and led him to a richdrawing-room, where she began to entertain him with that happy night'sadventure; when they both lay together at the village; while _Alonzo_makes imperfect replies, wholly charmed with the look of the youngcavalier, which so resembled what he had seen the day before inanother garb on the _Tour_. He is wholly ravished with his voice, itbeing absolutely the same, that had charmed him that day in the park;the more he gazed and listened, the more he was confirmed in hisopinion, that he was the same, and he had the music of that dearaccent still in his ears, and could not be deceived. A thousand timeshe is about to kneel before her, and ask her pardon, but still ischecked by doubt: he sees, he hears, this is the same lovely youth, who lay in bed with him at the village _cabaret_; and then no longerthinks her woman: he hears and sees it is the same face, and voice, and hands he saw on the _Tour_, and in the park, and then believes herwoman: while he is in these perplexities, _Sylvia_, who with vanityand pride perceived his disorder, taking him in her arms, cried, 'Come, my _Alonzo_, that you shall no longer doubt but I am perfectlyyour friend, I will shew you a sister of mine, whom you will say is abeauty, or I am too partial, and I will have your judgement of her. 'With that she called to _Antonet_ to beg her lady would permit her tobring a young stranger to kiss her hand. The maid, instructed, retires, and _Alonzo_ stood gazing on _Sylvia_ as one confounded andamazed, not knowing yet how to determine; he now begins to thinkhimself mistaken in the fair youth, and is ready to ask his pardon fora fault but imagined, suffering by his silence the little prattler todiscourse and laugh at him at his pleasure. 'Come, ' said _Sylvia_smiling, 'I find the naming a beauty to you has made you melancholy;possibly when you see her she will not appear so to you; we do notalways agree in one object. ' 'Your judgement, ' replied _Alonzo_, 'istoo good to leave me any hope of liberty at the sight of a fine woman;if she be like yourself I read my destiny in your charming face. '_Sylvia_ answered only with a smile--and calling again for _Antonet_, she asked if her sister were in a condition of being seen; she toldher she was not, but all undressed and in her night-clothes; 'Naythen, ' said _Sylvia_, 'I must use my authority with her:' and leaving_Alonzo_ trembling with expectation, she ran to her dressing-room, where all things were ready, and slipping off her coat put on a richnight-gown, and instead of her peruke, fine night-clothes, and cameforth to the charmed _Alonzo_, who was not able to approach her, shelooked with such a majesty, and so much dazzling beauty; he knew herto be the same he had seen on the _Tour_. She, (seeing he only gazedwithout life or motion) approaching him, gave him her hand, andcried--'Sir, possibly this is a more old acquaintance of yours than myface. ' At which he blushed and bowed, but could not speak: at last_Sylvia_, laughing out-right, cried--'Here, _Antonet_, bring me againmy peruke, for I find I shall never be acquainted with _Don Alonzo_ inpetticoats. ' At this he blushed a thousand times more than before, andno longer doubted but this charmer, and the lovely youth were one; hefell at her feet, and told her he was undone, for she had made himgive her so indisputable proofs of his dullness, he could never hopeshe should allow him capable of eternally adoring her. 'Rise, ' cried_Sylvia_ smiling, 'and believe you have not committed so great anerror, as you imagine; the mistake has been often made, and persons ofa great deal of wit have been deceived. ' 'You may say what youplease, ' replied _Alonzo_, 'to put me in countenance; but I shallnever forgive myself the stupidity of that happy night, that laid meby the most glorious beauty of the world, and yet afforded me no kindinstinct to inform my soul how much I was blest: oh pity awretchedness, divine maid, that has no other excuse but that ofinfatuation; a thousand times my greedy ravished eyes wandered overthe dazzling brightness of yours; a thousand times I wished thatheaven had made you woman! and when I looked, I burnt; but, when Ikissed those soft, those lovely lips, I durst not trust my heart; forevery touch begot wild thoughts about it; which yet the course of allmy fiery youth, through all the wild debauches I had wandered, hadnever yet betrayed me to; and going to bed with all this love and fearabout me, I made a solemn oath not to approach you, lest so muchbeauty had overcome my virtue. But by this new discovery, you havegiven me a flame, I have no power nor virtue to oppose: it is just, itis natural to adore you; and not to do it, were a greater than my sinof dullness; and since you have made me lose a charming friend, it isbut just I find a mistress; give me but your permission to love, and Iwill give you all my life in service, and wait the rest: I will watchand pray for coming happiness; which I will buy at any price of lifeor fortune. ' 'Well, sir, ' replied our easy fair one; 'if you believeme worth a conquest over you, convince me you can love; for I am nocommon beauty to be won with petty sudden services; and could you layan empire at my feet, I should despise it where the heart werewanting. ' You may believe the amorous youth left no argument toconvince her in that point unsaid; and it is most certain they came toso good an understanding, that he was not seen in _Brussels_ for eightdays and nights after, nor this rare beauty, for so long a time, seenon the _Tour_ or any public place. _Brilliard_ came every day to visither, and receive her commands, as he used to do, but was answeredstill that _Sylvia_ was ill, and kept her chamber, not suffering evenher domestics to approach her: this did not so well satisfy thejealous lover, but he soon imagined the cause, and was very muchdispleased at the ill treatment; if such a design had been carried on, he desired to have the management of it, and was angry that _Sylvia_had not only deceived him in the promise he had made for her to_Octavio_, but had done her own business without him: he spoke somehard words; so that to undeceive him she was forced to oblige _Alonzo_to appear at Court again; which she had much ado to incline him to, soabsolutely she had charmed him; however he went, and she suffered_Brilliard_ to visit her, persuading that easy lover (as all loversare easy) that it was only indisposition, that hindered her of thehappiness of seeing him; and after having perfectly reconciled herselfto him, she asked him the news at _Hermione_'s, to whom, I had forgotto tell you, she sent every day a page with a compliment, and to lether know she was ill, or she should have waited on her: she every dayreceived the compliment from her again, as an unknown lady. _Brilliard_ told her that all things were now prepared, and in a veryshort time they should go for _France_; but that whatever the matterwas, _Philander_ almost publicly disowned the Prince's interest, andto some very considerable of the party has given out, he does not likethe proceedings, and that he verily believed they would findthemselves all mistaken; and that instead of a throne the Prince wouldmeet a scaffold; 'so bold and open he has been. Something of it hasarrived to the Prince's ear, who was so far from believing it, that hecould hardly be persuaded to speak of it to him; and when he did, itwas with an assurance before-hand, that he did not credit suchreports. So that he gives him not the pain to deny them: for my part Iam infinitely afraid he will disoblige the Prince one day; for lastnight, when the Prince desired him to get his equipage ready, and tomake such provision for you as was necessary, he coldly told him hehad a mind to go to _Vienna_, which at that time was besieged by_Solyman_ the Magnificent, and that he had no inclination of returningto _France_. This surprised and angered the Prince; but they partedgood friends at last, and he has promised him all things: so that I amvery well assured he will send me where he supposes you still are; andhow shall we manage that affair?'

_Sylvia_, who had more cunning and subtleness than all the rest of hersex, thought it best to see _Philander_, and part with him on as goodterms as she could, and that it was better he should think he yet hadthe absolute possession of her, than that he should return to _France_with an ill opinion of her virtue; as yet he had known no guilt ofthat kind, nor did he ever more than fear it with _Octavio_; so thatit would be easy for her to cajole him yet a little longer, and whenhe was gone, she should have the world to range in, and possess thisnew lover, to whom she had promised all things, and received from himall assurances imaginable of inviolable love: in order to this thenshe consulted with _Brilliard_; and they resolved she should for a fewdays leave _Antonet_ with her equipage, at that house where she was, and retire herself to the village where _Philander_ had left her, andwhere he still imagined she was: she desired _Brilliard_ to give her aday's time for this preparation, and it should be so. He left her, andgoing to _Hermione_'s, meets _Philander_, who immediately gave himorders to go to _Sylvia_ the next morning, and let her know how allthings went, and tell her, he would be with her in two days. In themean time _Sylvia_ sent for _Alonzo_, who was but that evening gonefrom her. He flies on the wings of love, and she tells him, she isobliged to go to a place six or seven days' journey off, whither hecould not conduct her, for reasons she would tell him at her return:whatever he could plead with all the force of love to the contrary, she gets his consent, with a promise wholly to devote herself to himat her return, and pleased she sent him from her, when _Brilliard_returning told her the commands he had; and it was concluded theyshould both depart next morning, accompanied only by her page. I amwell assured she was very kind to _Brilliard_ all that journey, andwhich was but too visible to the amorous youth who attended them; soabsolutely had she depraved her reason, from one degree of sin andshame to another; and he was happy above any imagination, while evenher heart was given to another, and when she could propose no otherinterest in this looseness, but security, that _Philander_ should notknow how ill she had treated him. In four days _Philander_ came, andfinding _Sylvia_ more fair than ever, was anew pleased; for shepretended to receive him with all the joy imaginable, and the deceivedlover believed, and expressed abundance of grief at the being obligedto part from her; a great many vows and tears were lost on both sides, and both believed true: but the grief of _Brilliard_ was not to beconceived; he could not persuade himself he could live, when absentfrom her: some bills _Philander_ left her, and was so plain with her, and open-hearted, he told her that he went indeed with _Cesario_, butit was in order to serve the King; that he was weary of their actions, and foresaw nothing but ruin would attend them; that he never repentedhim of any thing so much, as his being drawn in to that faction; inwhich he found himself so greatly involved, he could not retire withany credit; but since self-preservation was the first principle ofnature, he had resolved to make that his aim, and rather prove falseto a party, who had no justice and honour on their side, than to aKing, whom all the laws of heaven and earth obliged him to serve;however, he was so far in the power of these people, that he could notdisengage himself without utter ruin to himself; but that as soon ashe was got into _France_, he would abandon their interest, let thecensuring world say what it would, who never had right notions ofthings, or ever made true judgements of men's actions. 

He lived five or six days with _Sylvia_ there; in which time shefailed not to assure him of her constant fidelity a thousand ways, especially by vows that left no doubt upon his heart; and it was nowthat they both indeed found there was a very great friendship stillremaining at the bottom of their hearts for each other, nor did theypart without manifold proofs of it. _Brilliard_ took a sad andmelancholy leave of her, and had not the freedom to tell her aloud, but obliged to depart with his lord, they left _Sylvia_, and posted to_Brussels_, where they found the Prince ready to depart, having left_Hermione_ to her women more than half dead. I have heard there neverwas so sad a parting between two lovers; a hundred times they swoonedwith the apprehension of the separation in each other's arms, and atlast the Prince was forced from her while he left her dead, and waslittle better himself: he would have returned, but the officers andpeople about him, who had espoused his quarrel, would by no meanssuffer him: and he has a thousand times told a person very near him, that he had rather have forfeited all his hoped-for glory, than haveleft that charmer of his soul. After he had taken all care imaginablefor _Hermione_, for that name so dear to him was scarce ever out ofhis mouth, he suffered himself with a heavy heart and pace to beconducted to the vessel: and I have heard he was hardly seen to smileall the little voyage, or his whole life after, or do any thing butsigh, and sometimes weep, which was a very great discouragement to allthat followed him; they were a great while at sea, tossed to and froby stress of weather, and often driven back to the shore where theyfirst took shipping; and not being able to land where they firstdesigned, they got ashore in a little harbour, where no ship of anybigness could anchor; so that with much ado, getting all their armsand men on shore, they sunk the ship, both to secure any from flying, and that it might not fall into the hands of the _French_. _Cesario_was no sooner on the _French_ shore, but numbers came to him of the_Huguenot_ party, for whom he had arms, and who wanted them hefurnished as far as he could, and immediately proclaimed himself Kingof _France_ and _Navarre_, while the dirty crowd rang him peals ofjoy. But though the under world came in great crowds to his aid, hewanted still the main supporters of his cause, the men of substantialquality: if the ladies could have composed an army, he would not havewanted one, for his beauty had got them all on his side, and hecharmed the fair wheresoever he rode. 

He marched from town to town without any opposition, proclaiminghimself king in all the places he came to; still gathering as hemarched, till he had composed a very formidable army. He made officersof the kingdom--_Fergusano_ was to have been a cardinal, and severallords and dukes were nominated; and he found no opposition in all hisprosperous course. --In the mean time the royal army was not idle, which was composed of men very well disciplined, and conducted byseveral princes and men of great quality and conduct. But as it is notthe business of this little history to treat of war, but altogetherlove; leaving those rougher relations to the chronicles andhistoriographers of those times, I will only hint on such things inthis enterprise, as are most proper for my purpose, and tell you, that_Cesario_ omitted nothing for the carrying on his great design; hedispersed his scandals all over _France_, though they met with anobstruction at _Paris_, and were immediately suppressed, it beingproclaimed death for any person to keep one in their houses; and ifany should by chance come to their hands, they were on this penalty tocarry them to the Secretary of State; and after the punishment hadpassed on two or three offenders, it deterred the rest from meddlingwith those edge tools: I must tell you also, that the title of king, which _Cesario_ had taken so early upon him, was much against hisinclinations; and he desired to see himself at the head of a moresatisfiable army, before he would take on him a title he found (in thecondition he was in) he should not defend; but those about himinsinuated to him, that it was the title that would not only make himmore venerable, but would make his cause appear more just and lawful;and beget him a perfect adoration with those people who lived remotefrom Courts, and had never seen that glorious thing called a king. Sothat believing it would give nerves to the cause, he unhappily tookupon him that which ruined him; for he had often sworn to the greatestpart of those of any quality, of his interest, that his design wasliberty only, and that his end was the public good, so infinitelyabove his own private interest, that he desired only the honour ofbeing the champion for the oppressed _Parisians_, and people of_France_; that if they would allow him to lead their armies, to fightand spend his dearest blood for them, it was all the glory he aimedat: it was this pretended humility in a person of his high rank thatcajoled the _mobile_, who looked on him as their god, their deliverer, and all that was sacred and dear to them; but the wiser sort regardedhim only as one that had most power and pretension to turn the wholeaffairs of _France_, which they disliking, were willing at any price, to reduce to their own conditions, and to what they desired; notimagining he would have laid a claim to the Crown, which many of themfancied themselves as capable of as himself, rather that he wouldperhaps have set up the King of _Navarre_. This _Cesario_ knew; andunderstanding their sentiments, was unwilling to hinder their joiningwith him, by such a declaration, which he knew would be a means toturn abundance of hearts against him, as indeed it fell out; and hefound himself master of some few towns, only with an army of fifteenor sixteen thousand peasants, ill armed, unused to war, watchings, andvery ill lodging in the field, very badly victualled, and worse paid. For, from _Paris_ no aids of any kind could be brought him; the roadsall along being so well guarded and secured by the royal forces, andwanting some great persons to espouse his quarrel, made him not onlydespair of success, but highly resent it of those, who had given himso large promises of aid. Many, as I said, and most were disgustedwith his title of king; but some waited the success of his firstbattle; which was every day expected, though _Cesario_ kept himself asclear of the royal army as he could a long time, marching away as soonas they drew near, hoping by these means, not only to tire them out, and watch an advantage when to engage, but gather still more numbers. So that the greatest mischief he did was teasing the royal army, whocould never tell where to have him, so dexterous he was in marchingoff. They often came so near, as to have skirmishes with one anotherby small parties, where some few men would fall on both sides: and tosay truth, _Cesario_ in this expedition shewed much more of a soldierthan the politician: his skill was great, his conduct good, expert inadvantages, and indefatigable in toils. And I have heard it from themouth of a gentleman, who in all that undertaking never was from him, that in seven or eight weeks that he was in arms, he never absolutelyundressed himself, and hardly slept an hour in the four and twenty;and that sometimes he was on his horse's back, in a chariot, or on theground, suffering even with the meanest of his soldiers all thefatigues of the enterprise: this gentleman told me he would, in thosehours he should sleep, and wherein he was not taking measures andcouncils, (which were always held in the night) that he would beeternally speaking to him of _Hermione_; and that with the softestconcern, it was possible for love and tenderest passion to express. That he being the only friend he could repose so great a weakness in, and who soothed him to the degree he wished, the Prince was so wellpleased with him, as to establish him a colonel of horse, for no othermerit than that of having once served _Hermione_, and now wouldflatter his disease agreeably: and though he did so, he protested hewas ashamed to hear how this poor fond concern rendered this greatman, and he has often pitied what should have been else admired; butwho can tell the force of love, backed by charms supernatural? And whois it that will not sigh, at the fate of so illustrious a young man, whom love had rendered the most miserable of all those numbers he led?

But now the royal army, as if they had purposely suffered him to takehis tour about the country, to ensnare him with the more facility, hadat last, by new forces that came to their assistance daily, soencompassed him, that it was impossible for him to avoid any longergiving them battle; however, he had the benefit of posting himself themost advantageously that he could wish; he had the rising grounds toplace his cannon, and all things concurred to give him success; hisnumbers exceeding those of the royal army: not but he would haveavoided a set battle, if it had been possible, till he had madehimself master of some places of stronger hold; for yet, as I said, hehad only subdued some inconsiderable places which were not able tomake defence; and which as soon as he was marched out, surrenderedagain to their lawful prince; and pulling down his proclamation, putup those of the King: but he was on all sides so embarrassed, he couldnot come even to parly with any town of note; so that, as I said, atlast, being as it were blocked up, though the royal army did not offerhim battle: three nights they lay thus in view of each other; thefirst night the Prince sent out his scouts, who brought himintelligence, that the enemy was not so well prepared for battle, asthey feared they might be, if they imagined the Prince would engagethem, but he had so often given them the slip, that they believed hehad no mind to put the fortune of the day to the push; and they wereglad of these delays, that new forces might advance. When the scoutsreturned with this news, the Prince was impatient to fall upon theenemy, but _Fergusano_, who was continually taking counsel of hischarms, and looking into his black Book of Fate, for every sally andstep they made, persuaded His Highness to have a little patience;positively assuring him his fortune depended on a critical minute, which was not yet come; and that if he offered to give battle beforethe change of the moon, he was inevitably lost, and that theattendance of that fortunate moment would be the beginning of those ofhis whole life: with such like positive persuasions he gained upon thePrince, and overcame his impatience of engaging for that night, allwhich he passed in counsel, without being persuaded to take any rest, often blaming the nicety of their art, and his stars; and oftenasking, if they lost that opportunity that fortune had now given them, whether all their arts, or stars, or devils, could retrieve it? Andnothing would that night appease him, or dispossess the sorcerers ofthis opinion. 

The next day they received certain intelligence, that a considerablesupply would reinforce the royal army under the conduct of a Prince ofthe Blood; which were every moment expected: this news made the Princerave, and he broke out into all the rage imaginable against thewizards, who defended themselves with all the reasons of their art, but it was all in vain, and he vowed he would that night engage theenemy, if he found but one faithful friend to second him, though hedied in the attempt; that he was worn out with the toils he hadundergone; harassed almost to death, and would wait no longer theapproach of his lazy fate, but boldly advancing, meet it, what face soever it bore. They besought him on their knees, he would not overthrowthe glorious design, so long in bringing to perfection, just in thevery minute of happy projection; but to wait those certain Fates, thatwould bring him glory and honour on their wings; and who, if slighted, would abandon him to destruction; it was but some few hours more, andthen they were his own, to be commanded by him: it was thus theydrilled and delayed him on till night; when again he sent out hisscouts to discover the posture of the enemy; and himself in the meantime went to Council. _Philander_ failed not to be sent for thither, who sometimes feigned excuses to keep away, and when he did come, hesat unconcerned, neither giving or receiving any advice. This wastaken notice of by all, but _Cesario_, who looked upon it as beingoverwatched, and fatigued with the toils of the day; his sullennessdid not pass so in the opinion of the rest; they saw, or at leastthought they saw, some other marks of discontent in his fine eyes, which love so much better became. One of the Prince's officers, andCaptain of his Guard, who was an old hereditary rogue, and whosefather had suffered in rebellion before, a fellow rough and daring, comes boldly to the Prince when the Council rose, and asked him, if hewere resolved to engage? He told him, he was. 'Then, ' said he, 'giveme leave to shoot _Philander_ in the head. ' This blunt propositiongiven, without any manner of reason or circumstance, made the Princestart back a step or two, and ask him his meaning of what he said. 'Sir, ' replied the Captain, 'if you will be safe, _Philander_ mustdie; for however it appear to Your Highness, to all the camp he showsthe traitor, and it is more than doubted, he and the King of _France_, understand one another but too well: therefore, if you would bevictor, let him be dispatched, and I myself will undertake it. ''Hold, ' said the Prince, 'if I could believe what you say to be true, I should not take so base a revenge; I would fight like a soldier, andhe should be treated like a man of honour. ' 'Sir, ' said _Vaneur_, forthat was the Captain's name; 'do not, in the circumstances we are nowin, talk of treating (with those that would betray us) like men ofhonour; we cannot stand upon decency in killing, who have so many todispatch; we came not into _France_ to fight duels, and stand on nicepunctilios: I say, we must make quick work, and I have a good pistol, charged with two handsome bullets, that shall, as soon as he appearsamongst us on horseback, do his business as genteelly as can be, andrid you of one of the most powerful of your enemies. ' To this thePrince would by no means agree; not believing one syllable of theaccusation. _Vaneur_ swore then that he would not draw a sword for hisservice, while _Philander_ was suffered to live; and he was as good ashis word. He said, in going out, that he would obey the Prince, but hebegged his pardon, if he did not lift a hand on his side; and in anhour after sent him his commission, and waited on him, and was withhim almost till the last, in all the danger, but would not fight, having made a solemn vow. Several others were of _Vaneur_'s opinion, but the Prince believed nothing of it; _Philander_ being indeed, as hesaid, weary of the design and party, and regarded them as his ruiners, who with fair pretences drew him into a bad cause; which his youth hadnot then considered, and from which he could not untangle himself. 

By this time, the scout was come back, who informed the Prince thatnow was the best time in the world to attack the enemy, who all laysupinely in their tents, and did not expect a surprise: that the veryout-guards were slender, and that it would not be hard to put them toa great deal of confusion. The Prince, who was enough impatientbefore, now was all fire and spirit, and it was not in the power ofmagic to withhold him; but hasting immediately to horse, with as muchspeed as possible, he got at the head of his men; and marching ondirectly to the enemy, put them into so great a surprise, that it maybe admired how they got themselves into a condition of defence; and, to make short of a business that was not long in acting, I may avow, nothing but the immediate hand of the Almighty, (who favours thejuster side, and is always ready for the support of those, whoapproach so near his own divinity; sacred and anointed heads) couldhave turned the fortune of the battle to the royal side: it wasprodigious to consider the unequal numbers, and the advantage all onthe Prince's part; it was miraculous to behold the order on his side, and surprise on the other, which of itself had been sufficient to haveconfounded them; yet notwithstanding all this unpreparedness on thisside, and the watchfulness and care on the other; so well the generaland officers of the royal army managed their scanted time, so bravelydisciplined and experienced the soldiers were, so resolute and brave, and all so well mounted and armed, that, as I said, to a miracle theyfought, and it was a miracle they won the field: though that fatalnight _Cesario_ did in his own person wonders; and when his horse waskilled under him, he took a partisan, and as a common soldier, at thehead of his foot, acted the _hero_ with as much courage and bravery, as ever _Caesar_ himself could boast; yet all this availed himnothing: he saw himself abandoned on all sides, and then under thecovert of the night, he retired from the battle, with his sword in hishand, with only one page, who fought by his side: a thousand times hewas about to fall on his own sword, and like _Brutus_ have finished alife he could no longer sustain with glory: but love, that coward ofthe mind, and the image of divine _Hermione_, as he esteemed her, still gave him love to life; and while he could remember she yet livedto charm him, he could even look with contempt on the loss of all hisglory; at which, if he repined, it was for her sake, who expected tobehold him return covered over with laurels. In these sad thoughts hewandered as long as his wearied legs would bear him, into a lowforest, far from the camp; where, over-pressed with toil, all overpain, and a royal heart even breaking with anxiety, he laid him downunder the shelter of a tree, and found but his length of earth left tosupport him now, who, not many hours before, beheld himself thegreatest monarch, as he imagined, in the world. Oh who, that had seenhim thus; which of his most mortal enemies, that had viewed the royalyouth, adorned with all the charms of beauty, heaven ever distributedto man; born great, and but now adored by all the crowding world withhat and knee; now abandoned by all, but one kind trembling boy weepingby his side, while the illustrious _hero_ lay gazing with melancholyweeping eyes, at those stars that had lately been so cruel to him;sighing out his great soul to the winds, that whistled round hisuncovered head; breathing his griefs as silently as the sad fatalnight passed away; where nothing in nature seemed to pity him, but thepoor wretched youth that kneeled by him, and the sighing air: I say, who that beheld this, would not have scorned the world, and all itsfickle worshippers? Have cursed the flatteries of vain ambition, andprized a cottage far above a throne? A garland wreathed by some fairinnocent hand, before the restless glories of a crown?

Some authors, in the relation of this battle, affirm, that _Philander_quitted his post as soon as the charge was given, and sheered off fromthat wing he commanded; but all historians agree in this point, thatif he did, it was not for want of courage; for in a thousandencounters he has given sufficient proofs of as much bravery as a mancan be capable of: but he disliked the cause, disapproved of all theirpretensions, and looked upon the whole affair and proceeding to bemost unjust and ungenerous; and all the fault his greatest enemiescould charge him with was, that he did not deal so gratefully with aprince that loved him and trusted him; and that he ought frankly tohave told him, he would not serve him in this design; and that it hadbeen more gallant to have quitted him that way, than this; but thereare so many reasons to be given for this more politic and safe deceit, than are needful in this place, and it is most certain, as it is themost justifiable to heaven and man, to one born a subject of _France_, and having sworn allegiance to his proper king, to abandon any otherinterest; so let the enemies of this great man say what they please, if a man be obliged to be false to this or that interest, I think nobody of common honesty, sense and honour, will dispute which he oughtto abandon; and this is most certain, that he did not forsake himbecause fortune did so, as this one instance may make appear. When_Cesario_ was first proclaimed king, and had all the reason in theworld to believe that fortune would have been wholly partial to him, he offered _Philander_ his choice of any principality and governmentin _France_, and to have made him of the Order of _Saint Esprit_: allwhich he refused, though he knew his great fortune was lost, andalready distributed to favourites at Court, and himself proscribed andconvicted as a traitor to _France_. Yet all these refusals did notopen the eyes of this credulous great young man, who still believed itthe sullenness and generosity of his temper. 

No sooner did the day discover to the world the horrid business of thepreceding night, but a diligent search was made among the infinitenumber of dead that covered the face of the earth, for the body of thePrince, or new King, as they called him: but when they could not findhim among the dead, they sent out parties all ways to search thewoods, the forests and the plains; nor was it long they sought invain; for he who had laid himself, as I said, under the shelter of atree, had not for any consideration removed him; but finding himselfseized by a common hand, suffered himself, without resistance, to bedetained by one single man 'till more advanced, when he could aseasily have killed the rustic as speak or move; an action so below thecharacter of this truly brave man, that there is no reason to be givento excuse his easy submission but this, that he was stupefied withlong watching, grief, and the fatigues of his daily toil for so manyweeks before: for it is not to be imagined it was carelessness, orlittle regard for life; for if it had been so, he would doubtless havelost it nobly with the victory, and never have retreated while therehad been one sword left advanced against him; or if he had disdainedthe enemy should have had the advantage and glory of so great aconquest, at least when his sword had been yet left him, he shouldhave died like a _Roman_, and have scorned to have added to thetriumph of the enemy. But love had unmanned his great soul, and_Hermione_ pleaded within for life at any price, even that of all hisglory; the thought of her alone blackened this last scene of his life, and for which all his past triumphs could never atone nor excuse. 

Thus taken, he suffered himself to be led away tamely by common handswithout resistance: a victim now even fallen to the pity of the_mobile_ as he passed, and so little imagined by the better sort whosaw him not, they would not give a credit to it, every one affirmingand laying wagers he would die like a hero, and never surrender withlife to the conqueror. But this submission was but too true for therepose of all his abettors; nor was his mean surrender all, but heshewed a dejection all the way they were bringing him to _Paris_, soextremely unworthy of his character, that it is hardly to be creditedso great a change could have been possible. And to shew that he hadlost all his spirit and courage with the victory, and that the greatstrings of his heart were broke, the Captain who had the charge ofhim, and commanded that little squadron that conducted him to _Paris_, related to me this remarkable passage in the journey; he said, thatthey lodged in an inn, where he believed both the master, and a greatmany strangers who that night lodged there, were _Huguenots_, andgreat lovers of the Prince, which the Captain did not know, till afterthe lodgings were taken: however, he ordered a file of Musketeers toguard the door; and himself only remaining in the chamber with thePrince, while supper was getting ready: the Captain being extremelyweary with watching and toiling for a long time together, laid himselfdown on a bench behind a great long table, that was fastened to thefloor, and had unadvisedly laid his pistols on the table; and thoughhe durst not sleep, he thought there to stretch himself into a littleease, who had not quitted his horseback in a great while: the Prince, who was walking with his arms a-cross about the room, musing in a verydejected posture, often casting his eyes to the door, at last advancesto the table, and takes up the Captain's pistols; the while he who sawhim advance, feared in that moment, what the Prince was going to do;he thought, if he should rise and snatch at the pistols, and miss ofthem, it would express so great a distrust of the Prince, it mightprovoke him to do, what by his generous submitting of them, might makehim escape; and therefore, since it was too late, he suffered thePrince to arm himself with two pistols, who before was disarmed ofeven his little penknife. He was, he said, a thousand times about tocall out to the guards; but then he thought before they could enter tohis relief, he was sure to be shot dead, and it was possible thePrince might make his party good with four or five common soldiers, who perhaps loved the Prince as well as any, and might rather assistthan hinder his flight; all this he thought in an instant, and at thesame time, seeing the Prince stand still, in a kind of considerationwhat to do, looking, turning, and viewing of the pistols, he doubtednot but his thoughts would determine with his life, and though he hadbeen in the heat of all the battle, and had looked death in the face, when it appeared most horrid, he protested he knew not how to feartill this moment, and that now he trembled with the apprehension ofunavoidable ruin; he cursed a thousand times his unadvisedness, now itwas too late; he saw the Prince, after he had viewed and reviewed thepistols, walk in a great thoughtfulness again about the chamber, andat last, as if he had determined what to do, came back and laid themagain on the table; at which the Captain snatched them up, resolvingnever to commit so great an over-sight more. He did not doubt, hesaid, but the Prince, in taking them up, had some design of making hisescape; and most certainly, if he had but had courage to haveattempted it, it had not been hard to have been accomplished: atworst, he could but have died: but there is a fate, that over-rulesthe most lucky minutes of the greatest men in the world, and turnseven all advantages offered to misfortunes, when it designs theirruin. 

While they were on their way to _Paris_, he gave some more signs, thatthe misfortunes he had suffered, had lessened his heart and courage:he writ several the most submissive letters in the world to the King, and to the Queen-Mother of _France_; wherein he strove to mitigate histreason, with the poorest arguments imaginable, and, as if his goodsense had declined with his fortune, his style was altered, anddebased to that of a common man, or rather a schoolboy, filled withtautologies and stuff of no coherence; in which he neither shewed themajesty of a prince, nor sense of a gentleman; as I could make appearby exposing those copies, which I leave to history; all which must beimputed to the disorder his head and heart were in, for want of thatnatural rest, he never after found. When he came to _Paris_, he fellat the feet of His Majesty, to whom they brought him, and with ashower of tears bedewing his shoes, as he lay prostrate, besought hispardon, and asked his life; perhaps one of his greatest weaknesses, toimagine he could hope for mercy, after so many pardons for the samefault; and which, if he had had but one grain of that bravery lefthim, he was wont to be master of, he could not have expected, nor havehad the confidence to have implored; and he was a poor spectacle ofpity to all that once adored him, to see how he petitioned in vain forlife; which if it had been granted, had been of no other use to him, but to have passed in some corner of the earth, with _Hermione_, despised by all the rest: and, though he fetched tears of pity fromthe eyes of the best and most merciful of kings, he could not gain onhis first resolution; which was never to forgive him that scurrilousDeclaration he had dispersed at his first landing in _France_; that hetook upon him the title of king, he could forgive; that he had beenthe cause of so much bloodshed, he could forgive; but never thatunworthy scandal on his unspotted fame, of which he was much morenice, than of his crown or life; and left him (as he told him this)prostrate on the earth, when the guards took him up, and conveyed himto the _Bastille_: as he came out of the _Louvre_, it is said, helooked with his wonted grace, only a languishment sat there in greaterbeauty, than possibly all his gayer looks ever put on, at least in hiscircumstances all that beheld him imagined so; all the _Parisians_were crowded in vast numbers to see him: and oh, see what fortune is!Those that had vowed him allegiance in their hearts, and were upon alloccasions ready to rise in mutiny for his least interest, now saw him, and suffered him to be carried to the _Bastille_ with a small companyof guards, and never offered to rescue the royal unfortunate from thehands of justice, while he viewed them all around with scorning, dyingeyes. 

While he remained in the _Bastille_, he was visited by several of theministers of State, and cardinals, and men of the Church, who urgedhim to some discoveries, but could not prevail with him: he spoke, hethought, he dreamed of nothing but _Hermione_; and when they talked ofheaven, he ran on some discourse of that beauty, something of herpraise; and so continued to his last moment, even on the scaffold, where, when he was urged to excuse, as a good Christian ought, hisinvasion, his bloodshed, and his unnatural war, he set himself tojustify his passion to _Hermione_, endeavouring to render the life hehad led with her, innocent and blameless in the sight of heaven; andall the churchmen could persuade could make him speak of very littleelse. Just before he laid himself down on the block, he called to oneof the gentlemen of his chamber, and taking out the enchantedtooth-pick-case, he whispered him in the ear, and commanded him tobear it from him to _Hermione_; and laying himself down, suffered thejustice of the law, and died more pitied than lamented; so that itbecame a proverb, 'If I have an enemy, I wish he may live like----, and die like _Cesario_': so ended the race of this glorious youth, whowas in his time the greatest man of a subject in the world, and thegreatest favourite of his prince, happy indeed above a monarch, ifambition and the inspiration of knaves and fools, had not led him todestruction, and from a glorious life, brought him to a shamefuldeath. 

This deplorable news was not long in coming to _Hermione_, who mustreceive this due, that when she heard her _hero_ was dead, (and withhim all her dearer greatness gone) she betook herself to her bed, andmade a vow she would never rise nor eat more; and she was as good asher word, she lay in that melancholy estate about ten days, making themost piteous moan for her dead lover that ever was heard, drowning herpillow in tears, and sighing out her soul. She called on him in vainas long as she could speak; at last she fell into a lethargy, anddreamed of him, till she could dream no more; an everlasting sleep