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Updated: May 26, 2025
She read it over; and was often about to tear it, fancying it was too kind: but when she considered it was from no other inclination of her heart than that of getting the secrets out of his, she pardoned herself the little levity she found it guilty of; all which, considering as the effects of the violent passion she had for Philander, she found it easy to do; and sealing it she gave it to Antonet to deliver to the page, and set herself down to ease her soul of its heavy weight of grief by her complaints to the dear author of her pain; for when a lover is insupportably afflicted, there is no ease like that of writing to the person loved; and that, all that comes uppermost in the soul: for true love is all unthinking artless speaking, incorrect disorder, and without method, as 'tis without bounds or rules; such were Sylvia's unstudied thoughts, and such her following letter.
She rose from the bed, and walked about the room in much disorder, full of thought and no conclusion; she is ashamed to consult of this affair with Antonet, and knows not what to fix on: the only thing she was certain of, and which was fully and undisputably resolved in her soul, was never to consent to so false an action, never to buy the secret at so dear a rate; she abhors Octavio, whom she regards no more as that fine thing which before she thought him; and a thousand times she was about to write her despite and contempt, but still the dear secret stayed her hand, and she was fond of the torment: at last Antonet, who was afflicted to know the cause of this disorder, asked her lady if Octavio would not come; 'No, replied Sylvia, blushing at the name, 'nor never shall the ungrateful man dare to behold my face any more. 'Jesu, replied Antonet, 'what has he done, madam, to deserve this severity? For he was a great benefactor to Antonet, and had already by his gifts and presents made her a fortune for a burgomaster.
'See, madam, says Antonet, 'here is a letter yet unread: Sylvia, who had been a great while impatient for the return of Octavio's answer from Philander, expecting from thence the confirmation of all her doubts, hastily snatched the letter out of Antonet's hand, and read it, hoping to have found something there to have eased her soul one way or other; a soul the most raging and haughty by nature that ever possessed a body: the words were these.
At first he cursed himself for being so much concerned for Sylvia or her actions to waste a minute, but flattering himself that it was not love to her, but pure curiosity to know the man who was made the next fool to himself, though the more happy one, he waited all night; and when he began to see the day break, which he thought a thousand years; his eye was never off from the door, and wondered at their confidence, who would let the day break upon them; 'but the close-drawn curtains there, cried he, 'favour the happy villainy. Still he walked on, and still he might for any rival that was to appear, for a most unlucky accident prevented Brilliard's coming out, as he doubly intended to do; first, for the better carrying on of his cheat of being Octavio; and next that he had challenged Octavio to fight; and when he knew his error, designed to have gone this morning, and asked him pardon, if he had been returned; but the amorous lover over night, ordering himself for the encounter to the best advantage, had sent a note to a doctor, for something that would encourage his spirits; the doctor came, and opening a little box, wherein was a powerful medicine, he told him that a dose of those little flies would make him come off with wondrous honour in the battle of love; and the doctor being gone to call for a glass of sack, the doctor having laid out of the box what he thought requisite on a piece of paper, and leaving the box open, our spark thought if such a dose would encourage him so, a greater would yet make him do greater wonders; and taking twice the quantity out of the box, puts them into his pocket, and having drank the first with full directions, the doctor leaves him; who was no sooner gone, but he takes those out of his pocket, and in a glass of sack drinks them down; after this he bathes and dresses, and believes himself a very Hercules, that could have got at least twelve sons that happy night; but he was no sooner laid in bed with the charming Sylvia, as he thought, but he was taken with intolerable gripes and pains, such as he had never felt before, insomuch that he was not able to lie in the bed: this enrages him; he grows mad and ashamed; sometimes he had little intermissions for a moment of ease, and then he would plead softly by her bed-side, and ask ten thousand pardons; which being easily granted he would go into bed again, but then the pain would seize him anew, so that after two or three hours of distraction he was forced to dress and retire: but, instead of going down he went softly up to his own chamber, where he sat him down, and cursed the world, himself and his hard fate; and in this extremity of pain, shame and grief, he remained till break of day: by which time Antonet, who was almost as violently afflicted, got her coats on, and went to her own chamber, where she found her lady more dead than alive.
You ask me, oh charming Philander, how the pledge of our soft hours thrives: alas, as if it meant to brave the worst of fate! Thou sacred treasure of my soul, forgive me, if I have wronged thy love, adieu. She made an end of writing this, just when Antonet arrived, and told her Octavio was alighted at the gate, and coming to visit her, which gave her occasion to say this of him to Philander.
In vain I viewed, and called yet louder, but none appeared to my assistance but Antonet and Brilliard, to torture me with dull excuses, urging a thousand feigned and frivolous reasons to satisfy my fears: but I, who loved, who doted even to madness, by nature soft, and timorous as a dove, and fearful as a criminal escaped, that dreads each little noise, fancied their eyes and guilty looks confessed the treasons of their hearts and tongues, while they, more kind than true, strove to convince my killing doubts, protested that you would return by night, and feigned a likely story to deceive.
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.
Sylvia, who had more cunning and subtleness than all the rest of her sex, thought it best to see Philander, and part with him on as good terms as she could, and that it was better he should think he yet had the absolute possession of her, than that he should return to France with an ill opinion of her virtue; as yet he had known no guilt of that kind, nor did he ever more than fear it with Octavio; so that it would be easy for her to cajole him yet a little longer, and when he was gone, she should have the world to range in, and possess this new lover, to whom she had promised all things, and received from him all assurances imaginable of inviolable love: in order to this then she consulted with Brilliard; and they resolved she should for a few days leave Antonet with her equipage, at that house where she was, and retire herself to the village where Philander had left her, and where he still imagined she was: she desired Brilliard to give her a day's time for this preparation, and it should be so.
'Come, said Sylvia smiling, 'I find the naming a beauty to you has made you melancholy; possibly when you see her she will not appear so to you; we do not always agree in one object. 'Your judgement, replied Alonzo, 'is too good to leave me any hope of liberty at the sight of a fine woman; if she be like yourself I read my destiny in your charming face. Sylvia answered only with a smile and calling again for Antonet, she asked if her sister were in a condition of being seen; she told her she was not, but all undressed and in her night-clothes; 'Nay then, said Sylvia, 'I must use my authority with her: and leaving Alonzo trembling with expectation, she ran to her dressing-room, where all things were ready, and slipping off her coat put on a rich night-gown, and instead of her peruke, fine night-clothes, and came forth to the charmed Alonzo, who was not able to approach her, she looked with such a majesty, and so much dazzling beauty; he knew her to be the same he had seen on the Tour.
Of this last opinion I find you yourself to be; for even when Octavio comes, on whose heart you have no design, I see you dress to the best advantage, and put on many, to like one: why is this, but that even unknown to yourself, you have a secret joy and pleasure in gaining conquests, and of being adored, and thought the most charming of your sex? 'That is not from the inconstancy of my heart, cried Sylvia, 'but from the little vanity of our natures. 'Oh, madam, replied Antonet, 'there is no friend to love like vanity; it is the falsest betrayer of a woman's heart of any passion, not love itself betrays her sooner to love than vanity or pride; and madam, I would I might have the pleasure of my next wish, when I find you not only listening to the love of Octavio, but even approving it too. 'Away, replied Sylvia, in frowning, 'your mirth grows rude and troublesome Go bid the page wait while I return an answer to what his lord has sent me. So sitting at the table she dismissed Antonet, and writ this following letter.
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