sore, and I will have them dressed."

Ganymede had tears in her eyes, and passions in her heart to see her
Rosader so pained, and therefore stepped hastily to the bottle, and
filling out some wine in a mazer,[1] she spiced it with such
comfortable drugs as she had about her, and gave it him, which did
comfort Rosader, that rising, with the help of his brother, he took
his leave of them, and went to his lodge. Ganymede, as soon as they
were out of sight, led his flocks down to a vale, and there under the
shadow of a beech tree sate down, and began to mourn the misfortunes
of her sweetheart.

[Footnote 1: wooden mug.]

And Aliena, as a woman passing discontent, severing herself from her
Ganymede, sitting under a limon tree, began to sigh out the passions
of her new love, and to meditate with herself in this manner:

ALIENA'S MEDITATION

"Ay me! now I see, and sorrowing sigh to see, that Diana's laurels are
harbors for Venus' doves; that there trace as well through the lawns
wantons as chaste ones; that Calisto, be she never so chary, will cast
one amorous eye at courting Jove; that Diana herself will change her
shape, but she will honor Love in a shadow; that maidens' eyes be they
as hard as diamonds, yet Cupid hath drugs to make them more pliable
than wax. See, Alinda, how Fortune and Love have interleagued
themselves to be thy foes, and to make thee their subject, or else an
abject, have inveigled thy sight with a most beautiful object. A-late
thou didst hold Venus for a giglot, not a goddess, and now thou shalt
be forced to sue suppliant to her deity. Cupid was a boy and blind;
but, alas, his eye had aim enough to pierce thee to the heart. While I
lived in the court I held love in contempt, and in high seats I had
small desires. I knew not affection while I lived in dignity, nor
could Venus countercheck me, as long as my fortune was majesty, and my
thoughts honor; and shall I now be high in desires, when I am made low
by destiny? I have heard them say, that Love looks not at low
cottages, that Venus jets[1] in robes not in rags, that Cupid flies so
high, that he scorns to touch poverty with his heel. Tush, Alinda,
these are but old wives' tales, and neither authentical precepts, nor
infallible principles; for experience tells thee, that peasants have
their passions as well as princes, that swains as they have their
labors, so they have their amours, and Love lurks as soon about a
sheepcote as a palace.

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