have carried the letter, and I am sorry I opened it; pray return it to the 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 your lordship: it is the footmen’s business to do that to other persons.’ ’.t is a mistake, where ever it lies,’ cried _Octavio_, sighing, ’.hether in thee, or thy lady----’ So turning from the wondering boy he left him to return with his letter to his lady, who grew mad at the relation of what she heard from the page, and notwithstanding the torment she had upon her soul, occasioned by _Philander_, she now found she had more to endure, and that in spite of all her love-vows and resentments, she had something for _Octavio_ to which she could not give a name; she fancies it all pride, and concern for the indignity put on her beauty: but whatever it was, this slight of his so 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 resentment than 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 all things the most passionate of men was capable of, or that love could inspire, for him to be at last admitted to the possession of the ravishing object of his vows and soul, to be laid in her bed, nay in her very arms (as she imagined he thought) and then, even before gathering the roses he came to pluck, before he had begun to compose or finished his nosegay, to depart the happy paradise with a disgust, and such a disgust, as first to oblige him to dissemble sickness, and next fall even from all his civilities, was a contempt she was not able to bear; especially from him, of whom all men living, she designed to make the greatest property of, as most fit for her revenge of all degrees and sorts: but when she reflected with reason, (which she seldom did, for either love or rage blinded that) she could not conceive it possible that _Octavio_ could be fallen so suddenly from all 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; but she considers his presents, and his unwearied industry, and believes he would not at that expense have bought a knowledge which could profit neither himself nor _Philander_; then she believes some disgusted scent, or something about _Antonet_, might disoblige him; but having called the maid, conjuring her to tell her whether any thing passed between her and _Octavio_; she again told her lady the whole 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 now