cried bitterly to have had me to _Cologne_ with her, but he said I was too young now for her service, and so sent me away back to my own town, which is this; and here my lady was born too, and is sister to----’ Here she stopped, fearing to tell; which _Sylvia_ perceiving, with a briskness (which her indisposition one would have thought could not 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 it please you?’ said the blushing maid. ‘Because,’ said _Sylvia_, ‘it would in part revenge me on his bold addresses to me, and he would also be obliged, in honour to his family, to revenge himself on _Philander_.’ ‘Ah, madam,’ said she, ‘as to his presumption towards you, fortune has sufficiently revenged it;’ at this she hung down her head, and looked very foolishly. ‘How,’ said _Sylvia_, smiling and rearing herself yet more in her bed, ‘is any misfortune arrived to _Octavio_? Oh, how I will triumph and upbraid the daring man!----tell me quickly what it is; for nothing would rejoice me more than to hear he were punished a little.’ Upon this _Antonet_ told her what an unlucky night she had, how _Octavio_ was seized, and how he departed; by which _Sylvia_ believed he had made some discovery of the cheat that was put upon him; and that he only feigned illness to get himself loose from her embraces; and now she falls to considering how she shall be revenged on both her lovers: and the best she can pitch upon is that of setting them both at odds, and making them fight and revenge themselves on one another; but she, like a right woman, could not dissemble her resentment of jealousy, whatever art she had to do so in any other point; but mad to ease her soul that was full, and to upbraid _Philander_, she writes him a letter; but not till she had once more, to make her stark-mad, read his over again, which he sent _Octavio_. SYLVIA _to_ PHILANDER.