divine that ever graced a story; and when the nymphs would look for an example of love and constancy, let them point out _Philander_ to their doubted swains, and cry, ‘Ah! love but as the young _Philander_ did, and then be fortunate, and then reap all your wishes:’ and when the shepherd would upbraid his nymph, let him but cry,--’See here what _Sylvia_ did to save the young _Philander_;’ but oh! There never will be such another nymph as _Sylvia_; heaven formed but one to shew the world what angels are, and she was formed for me, yes she was--in whom I would not quit my glorious interest to reign a monarch here, or any boasted gilded thing above! Take all, take all, ye gods, and give me but this happy coming night! Oh, _Sylvia, Sylvia_! By all thy promised joys 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 throw thee away: oh! I am all flame, all joyful fire and softness; methinks it is heaven where-ever I look round me, air where I tread, and ravishing music when I speak, because it is all of _Sylvia_----let me alone, oh let me cool a little, or I shall by an excess of joyful thought lose all my hoped for bliss. Remove a little from me; go, my _Sylvia_, you are so excessive sweet, so wondrous dazzling, you press my 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 refreshing crystal murmuring spring, and fan the gentle air about me. I suffocate, I faint with this close loving, I must allay my joy or be undone--I will read thy cruel letters, or I will think of some sad melancholy hour wherein thou hast dismissed me despairing from thy presence: or while you press me now to be gone with so much earnestness, you have some lover to receive and entertain; perhaps it is only for the vanity to hear him tell his nauseous passion to you, breathe on your lovely face, and daub your garments with his fulsome embrace; but oh, by heaven, I cannot think that thought! And thou hast sworn thou canst not suffer it--if I should find thee false--but it is impossible.--Oh! Should I find _Foscario_ visit thee, him whom thy parents favour, I should undo you all, by heaven I should--but thou hast sworn, what need _Philander_ more? Yes, _Sylvia_, thou hast sworn and called heaven’s vengeance down whenever thou gavest a look, or a dear smile in love to that pretending fop: yet from his mighty fortune there is danger in him--What makes that thought torment me now?--Be gone, for _Sylvia_ loves me, and will preserve my life----