I have told you before, that father Antonio the prieſt, forgetting his function, duty and diſtance, gave way to his unruly and lawleſs paſſion, and was then blundering up ſtairs to find her in private, having almoſt fluſtered himſelf with wine, on purpoſe, either to be more confident in his wicked deſign, to tell her the ſtory of his nauſeous love, or rather luſt; or that, if he was reproved, he might have ſome ſlender excuſe for his impertinency, and lay (as too many do) the blame of their folly on that which is rather an aggravation of their crime, i. e. their drunkenneſs; and ſo furpriſed, however, he came, that putting his noſe over the upper ſtep, juſt as the Gardener poſted out at the private door, he had a glimpſe of the back parts of his garments, as it afterwards appeared; but, at that time, be took no notice of any ſuch thing. Dcidamia, seeing Antonio coming towards her in a very pleaſant humour, demanded, with a modeſt decency, What occaſion brought him hither to diſturb her retirement?
Ah! (ſaid the impudent prieſt, who could not long keep down his boiling paſfion) 'Your two fair eyes, ſweet lady, like loadſtones have drawn me to you that beauteous tempting face of yours, has made me forgot myſelf, with my duty to my Lord, and the truſt he repoſed in me.' Why! certainly, (said Deidamia, calling in patience, to bridle her paſſion) you are beſide yourſelf, Antonio.—What mean you by this kind of diſcourſe? 'If I am beſide myſelf, (replied he, almoſt crying) your fair ſelf is the cauſe of it: whoſe beauty, like arrows, has wounded my heart, and ſickened my brain; I wiſh I had never ſeen ſuch an amiableneſs in womankind: but, ſince I have been ſo unfortunate as to be your
