Love-Letters Between a Nobleman and His SisterBehn, Aphra
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Love-Letters Between a Nobleman and His Sister
Behn, Aphra
Epistolary fiction, English
I am not able, my adorable charmer, to obey your commands in going
from the sight of happy _Bellfont_; no, let the great wheel of the
vast design roll on----or for ever stand still, for I will not aid its
motion to leave the mightier business of my love unfinished; no, let
fortune and the duller fools toil on----for I’ll not bate a minute of
my joys with thee to save the world, much less so poor a parcel of it;
and sure there is more solid pleasure even in these expecting hours I
wait to snatch my bliss, than to be lord of all the universe without
it: then let me wait, my _Sylvia_, in those melancholy shades that
part _Bellfont_ from _Dorillus_’. farm; perhaps my _Sylvia_ may walk
that way so unattended, that we might meet and lose ourselves for a
few moments in those intricate retreats: ah _Sylvia_! I am dying with
that thought----oh heavens! What cruel destiny is mine? Whose fatal
circumstances do not permit me to own my passion, and lay claim to
_Sylvia_, to take her without control to shades and palaces, to live
for ever with her, to gaze for ever on her, to eat, to loll, to rise,
to play, to sleep, to act over all the pleasures and the joys of life
with her--but it is in vain I rave, in vain employ myself in the
fool’s barren business, wishing--this thought has made me sad as
death: oh, _Sylvia_! I can never be truly happy--adieu, employ thyself
in writing to me, and remember my life bears date but only with thy
faith and love.
PHILANDER.
_Try, my adorable, what you can do to meet me in the wood this
afternoon, for there I will live to-day._
* * * * *
_To_ PHILANDER.
Obstinate _Philander_, I conjure you by all your vows, by all your
sacred love, by those dear hours this happy night designed in favour
of you, to go without delay to _Cesario_; ‘twill be unsafe to disobey
a prince in his jealous circumstances. The fatigue of the journey
cannot be great, and you well know the torment of my fears! Oh! I
shall never be happy, or think you safe, till you have quitted this
fatal interest: go, my _Philander_----and remember whatever toils you
take will be rewarded at night in the arms of
SYLVIA.
* * * * *
_To_ SYLVIA.
Whatever toils you take shall be rewarded in the arms of
_Sylvia_----by heaven, I am inspired to act wonders: yes, _Sylvia_,
yes, my adorable maid, I am gone, I fly as swift as lightning, or the
soft darts of love shot from thy charming eyes, and I can hardly stay
to say----adieu----
* * * * *
_To_ the Lady----
_Dear Child_,
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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