transports of love! Yes, yes, you lov'd! by heaven you lov'd this
false, this perfidious _Myrtilla_; for false she is; you lov'd her,
and I'll have it so; nor shall the sister in me plead her cause. She
is false beyond all pardon; for you are beautiful as heaven itself can
render you, a shape exactly form'd, not too low, nor too tall, but
made to beget soft desire and everlasting wishes in all that look on
you; but your face! your lovely face, inclining to round, large
piercing languishing black eyes, delicate proportion'd nose, charming
dimpled mouth, plump red lips, inviting and swelling, white teeth,
small and even, fine complexion, and a beautiful turn! All which you
had an art to order in so engaging a manner, that it charm'd all the
beholders, both sexes were undone with looking on you; and I have
heard a witty man of your party swear, your face gain'd more to the
League and association than the cause, and has curs'd a thousand times
the false _Myrtilla_, for preferring _Cesario_! (less beautiful) to
the adorable _Philander_; to add to this, heaven! how you spoke, when
ere you spoke of love! in that you far surpass'd the young _Cesario_!
as young as he, almost as great and glorious; oh perfidious
_Myrtilla_, oh false, oh foolish and ingrate!--That you abandon'd her
was just, she was not worth retaining in your heart, nor could be
worth defending with your sword:--but grant her false; oh
_Philander_!--How does her perfidy entitle you to me? False as she
is, you still are married to her; inconstant as she is, she is still
your wife; and no breach of the nuptial vow can untie the fatal knot;
and that is a mystery to common sense: sure she was born for mischief;
and fortune, when she gave her you, designed the ruin of us all; but
most particularly _The unfortunate_ Sylvia.

* * * * *