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, which she loved, but she sends _Antonet_ to call the page, from whom she longed to know something of _Octavio_, and was sure he could inform her. But she was undressing while she spoke, and got into her bed before she left her: but _Antonet_, instead of bringing the sighing youth, brought the transported and ravished _Octavio_, who had by this time pulled his coarse campaign, and put down his hair. He fell breathless with joy on her bed-side; when _Antonet_, who knew that love desired no lookers-on, retired, and left _Octavio_ almost dead with joy, in the clasping arms of the trembling maid, the lovely _Sylvia_. Oh, who can guess their satisfaction? Who can guess their sighs and love, their tender words, half stifled in kisses? Lovers! fond lovers! only can imagine; to all besides, this tale will be insipid. He now forgets where he is, that not far off lay his amorous uncle, that to be found there was death, and something worse; but wholly ravished with the languishing beauty, taking his pistols out of either 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 all the heaven of love, that lay ready to receive him there, without thinking of any thing, but the vast power of either’s charms. They lay and forgot the hasty hours, but old _Sebastian_ did not. They were all counted by him with the impatience of a lover: he burnt, he raged with fierce desire, and tossed from side to side, and found no ease; _Sylvia_ was present in imagination, and he like _Tantalus_ reaches at the food, which, though in view, is not within his reach: he would have prayed, but he had no devotion for any deity but _Sylvia_; he rose and walked and went to bed again, and found himself uneasy every way. A thousand times he was about to go, and try what opportunity would do, in the dark silent night--but fears her rage--he fears she will chide at least; then he resolves, and unresolves as fast: unhappy lover--thus to blow the fire when there was no materials to supply it; at last, overcome with fierce desire too violent to be withstood, or rather fate would have it so ordained, he ventures all, and steals to _Sylvia_’. chamber, believing, when she found him in her arms, she could not be displeased; or if she were, that was the surest place of reconciliation: so that only putting his night-gown about him, he went softly to her chamber for fear of waking her: the unthinking lovers had left open the door, so that it was hardly put to; and the first alarm was _Octavio_’. hand being seized, which was clasping his treasure. He starts from the frighted arms of _Sylvia_, and leaping from the bed would have escaped; for he knew too well the touch of that old hand; but _Sebastian_, wholly surprised at so robust a repulse, took most unfortunately a stronger hold, and laying both his