way inevitably lost. Oh! what pitiless god, fond of his wondrous
power, made us the objects of his almighty vanity? Oh why were we two
made the first precedents of his new found revenge? For sure no
brother ever loved a sister with so criminal a flame before: at least
my inexperienced innocence never met with so fatal a story: and it is
in vain (my too charming brother) to make me insensible of our
alliance; to persuade me I am a stranger to all but your eyes and
soul.

Alas, your fatally kind industry is all in vain. You grew up a brother
with me; the title was fixed in my heart, when I was too young to
understand your subtle distinctions, and there it thrived and spread;
and it is now too late to transplant it, or alter its native property:
who can graft a flower on a contrary stalk? The rose will bear no
tulips, nor the hyacinth the poppy, no more will the brother the name
of lover. Oh! spoil not the natural sweetness and innocence we now
retain, by an endeavour fruitless and destructive; no, no,
_Philander_, dress yourself in what charms you will, be powerful as
love can make you in your soft argument--yet, oh yet, you are my
brother still.--But why, oh cruel and eternal powers, was not
_Philander_ my lover before you destined him a brother? Or why, being
a brother, did you, malicious and spiteful powers, destine him a
lover? Oh, take either title from him, or from me a life, which can
render me no satisfaction, since your cruel laws permit it not for
_Philander_, nor his to bless the now

_Unfortunate_ SYLVIA.

_Wednesday morning_.