ruiner of my honour;’ he took the letter with smiles and bows of gratitude, and read it. PHILANDER _to_ SYLVIA. There are a thousand reasons, dearest _Sylvia_, at this time that prevent my writing to you, reasons that will be convincing enough to oblige my pardon, and plead my cause with her that loves me: all which I will lay before you when I have the happiness to see you; I have met with some affairs since my arrival to this place, that wholly take up my time; affairs of State, whose fatigues have put my heart extremely out of tune, and if not carefully managed may turn to my perpetual ruin, 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 have no prospect of ease in the endless toils of life, but that of reposing in the arms of _Sylvia_: some short intervals: pardon my haste, for you cannot guess the weighty business that at present robs you of _Your_ PHILANDER. ’.ou lie, false villain-----’ replied _Sylvia_ in mighty rage, ‘I can guess your business, and can revenge it too; curse on thee, slave, to think me grown as poor in sense as honour: to be cajoled with this--stuff that would never sham a chambermaid: death! am I so forlorn, so despicable, I am not worth the pains of being well dissembled with? Confusion overtake him, misery seize him; may I become his plague while life remains, or public tortures end him!’ This, with all the madness that ever inspired a lunatic, she uttered with tears and violent actions: when _Octavio_ besought her not to afflict herself, and almost wished he did not love a temper so contrary to his own: he told her he was sorry, extremely sorry, to find she still retained so violent a passion for a man unworthy of her least concern; when she replied--’Do not mistake my soul, by heaven it is pride, disdain, despite and hate--to think he should believe this dull excuse could pass upon my judgement; had the false traitor told me that he hated me, or that his faithless date of love was out, I had been tame with all my injuries; but poorly thus to impose upon my wit--By heaven he shall not bear the affront to hell in triumph! No more--I have vowed he shall not--my soul has fixed, and now will be at ease--Forgive me, oh _Octavio_;’ and letting herself fall into his arms, she soon obtained what she asked for; one touch of the fair charmer could calm him into love and softness.