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Updated: June 16, 2025
I love the game." "You do?" Philander's eyes gleamed. "It's been a long time since there was anyone here who did." "Then I hope you'll let me come in occasionally for a game. I get lonesome here. The other guards aren't worth talking to, and I'm not educated enough in science or technology to get in on the arguments of the engineers and other technies." "Sure, sure, come in any time.
Thus into life, and peace, and fond security, you charmed my willing soul! How oft I cried 'Why this resistance, Sylvia? My charming dear, whose are you? Not Philander's?
'Oh give me leave to say a sister, madam, lest mistress had been too daring and presumptuous, and a title that would not justify my quarrel half so well, since it would take the honour from my just resentment, and blast it with the scandal of self-interest or jealous revenge. 'What you say, replied she, 'deserves abundance of acknowledgement; but if you would have me believe you, you ought to hide nothing from me; and he, methinks, that was so daring to confess his passion to Philander, may after that, venture on any discovery: in short, Octavio, I demand to see the return you have from Philander, for possibly said she, sweetening her charming face into a smile designed, 'I should not be displeased to find I might with more freedom receive your addresses, and on the coldness of Philander's reasoning may depend a great part of your fate, or fortune: come, come, produce your credentials, they may recommend your heart more effectually than all the fine things you can say; you know how the least appearance of a slight from a lover may advance the pride of a mistress; and pride in this affair will be your best advocate. Thus she insinuated with all her female arts, and put on all her charms of looks and smiles, sweetened her mouth, softened her voice and eyes, assuming all the tenderness and little affectations her subtle sex was capable of, while he lay all ravished and almost expiring at her feet; sometimes transported with imagined joys in the possession of the dear flattering charmer, he was ready to unravel all the secrets of Philander's letter; but honour yet was even above his passion, and made him blush at his first hasty thought; and now he strove to put her off with all the art he could, who had so very little in his nature, and whose real love and perfect honour had set him above the little evasions of truth, who scorned in all other cases the baseness and cowardice of a lie; and so unsuccessful now was the little honest cheat, which he knew not how to manage well, that it was soon discovered to the witty, jealous, and angry Sylvia: so that after all the rage a passionate woman could express, who believed herself injured by the only two persons in the world from whom she expected most adoration; she had recourse to that natural and softening aid of her sex, her tears; and having already reproached Octavio with all the malice of a defeated woman, she now continued it in so moving a manner, that our hero could no longer remain unconquered by that powerful way of charming, but unfixed to all he had resolved, gave up, at least, a part of the secret, and owned he had a letter from Philander; and after this confession knowing very well he could not keep her from the sight of it; no, though an empire were rendered her to buy it off; his wit was next employed how he should defend the sense of it, that she might not think Philander false.
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
It is you alone, my lord, like a young Columbus, that have found the direct, unpractised way to that little and so much desired world, the favour of the fair; nor could love himself have pointed his arrows with any thing more successful for his conquest of hearts: but mine, my lord, like Scaeva's shield, is already so full of arrows, shot from Philander's eyes, it has no room for any other darts: take back your presents then, my lord, and when you make them next be sure you first consider the receiver: for know, Octavio, maids of my quality ought to find themselves secure from addresses of this nature, unless they first invite.
Perfidious Maid, I might have thought thou'dst prove False to thy Prince, and Rival in my Love. I thought too justly he that conquer'd me Had a sufficient power to captive thee; Thou'st now reveng'd thy Father's shame and thine, In taking thus Philander's Life and mine. Er. Ah, Madam, that you would believe my tears, Or from my Vows but satisfy your Fears.
'twere much happier I were no more, than that I should be more than Philander's sister; or he than Sylvia's brother: oh let me ever call you by that cold name, 'till that of lover be forgotten: ha! Methinks on the sudden, a fit of virtue informs my soul, and bids me ask you for what sin of mine, my charming brother, you still pursue a maid that cannot fly: ungenerous and unkind!
Thus between excess of grief and excess of love, which indeed lay veiled in the first, they arrived at Brussels; where Octavio, having news of the proceedings of the States against him, resolving rather to lose his life, than tamely to surrender his right, he went forth in order to take some care about it: and in these extremes of a troubled mind, he had forgot to read Philander's letters, but gave them to Sylvia to peruse, till he returned, beseeching and conjuring her, by all the charms of love, not to suffer herself to be afflicted, but now to consider she was wholly his; and she could not, and ought not to rob him of a sigh, or tear for any other man.
"How purple it looks," observed Davy Jones, curiously; "and what's this on the label, here. 'Permaganate of Potash, No. 6; to be painted on the scratch; and used several times if necessary. That's Doc. Philander's writing, sure." "It looks pretty tough," commented Giraffe. "The remedy is sometimes worse than the disease, they say," remarked Smithy.
The page found no better success than hitherto he had done: but being with much entreaty brought to Philander's chamber, he found him sitting in his night-gown, to whom addressing himself he had no sooner named his lady but Philander bid him be gone, for he would hear nothing from that false woman: the boy would have replied, but he grew more enraged; and reviling her with all the railings of incensed lovers, he puts himself into his closet without speaking any more, or suffering any answer.
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