assemblage of soft
affections, gay desires, and hopeful resolutions?" Poor Cynthio went on
at this rate to the crowd about him, without any purpose in his talk,
but to vent a heart overflowing with sense of success. I wondered what
could exalt him from the distress in which he had long appeared, to so
much alacrity. But my familiar has given me the state of his affairs. It
seems then, that lately coming out of the play-house, his mistress, who
knows he is in her livery (as the manner of insolent beauties is),
resolved to keep him still so, and gave him so much wages, as to
complain to him of the crowd she was to pass through. He had his wits
and resolution enough about him to take her hand, and say, he would
attend her to her coach. All the way thither, my good young man
stammered at every word, and stumbled at every step. His mistress,
wonderfully pleased with her triumph, put him to a thousand questions,
to make a man of his natural wit speak with hesitation, and let drop her
fan, to see him recover it awkwardly. This is the whole foundation of
Cynthio's recovery to the sprightly air he appears with at present. I
grew mighty curious to know something more of that lady's affairs, as
being amazed how she could dally with an offer of one of his merit and
fortune. I sent Pacolet to her lodgings; he immediately brought me back
the following letter to her friend and confidante Amanda in the country,
wherein she has opened her heart and all its folds.

"DEAR AMANDA,

The town grows so empty, that you must expect my letter so too, except
you will allow me to talk of myself instead of others: you cannot
imagine what pain it is, after a whole day spent in public, to want
your company, and the ease which friendship allows in being vain to each
other, and speaking all our minds. An account of the slaughter which
these unhappy eyes have made within ten days last past, would make me
appear too great a tyrant to be allowed in a Christian country. I shall
therefore confine myself to my principal conquests, which are the hearts
of Beau Frisk, and Jack Freeland, besides Cynthio, who, you know, wore
my fetters before you went out of town. Shall I tell you my weakness? I
begin to love Frisk: it is the best-humoured impertinent thing in the
world: he is always too in waiting, and will certainly carry me off one
time or other. Freeland's father and mine have been upon treaty without
consulting me; and Cynthio has been eternally watching m