boy a thousand times what you said, how and in what manner you received it, chid him, and laid your silent fault on him, till he with tears convinced me, and said he found you hastening to the grove,--and when he gave you my commands----you looked upon him with such a wild and fixed regard, surveying him all over while you were opening it----as argued some unusual motion in you; then cried, ‘Be gone--I cannot answer flattery’----Good heaven, what can you mean? But ‘ere he got to the farther end of the grove, where still you walked a solemn death-like pace, he saw _Foscario_ pass him unattended, and looking back saw your rencounter, saw all that happened between you, then ran to your assistance just as you parted; still you were roughly sullen, and neither took notice of his proffered service, nor that you needed it, although you bled apace; he offered you his aid to tie your wounds up----but you replied--’Be gone, and do not trouble me’----Oh, could you imagine I could live with this neglect? Could you, my _Philander_? Oh what would you have me do! If nothing but my death or ruin can suffice for my atonement, I will sacrifice either with joy; yes, I’ll proclaim my passion aloud, proclaim it at _Bellfont_, own the dear criminal flame, fly to my Philander’s aid and be undone; for thus I cannot, no, I will not live, I rave, I languish, faint and die with pain; say that you live, oh, say but that you live, say you are coming to the meadow behind the garden-grove, in order to your approach to my arms: oh, swear that all your vows are true; oh, swear that you are _Sylvia’s_; and in return, I will swear that I am yours without reserve, whatever fate is destined for your SYLVIA. _I die with impatience, either to see or hear from you; I fear it is yet too soon for the first----oh therefore save me with the last, or I shall rave, and wildly betray all by coming to_ Dorillus _his farm, or seeking you where-ever you cruelly have hid yourself from_ SYLVIA. * * * * * _To_ SYLVIA.