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Then cease not my plaints so strong,
For (though life her course doth keepe)
It is not to liue so long,
As it is too short to weepe.

With a burning sigh that came from her afflicted soule,
Seluagia ended her song, saying, How vnfortunate (alas) am I that see my selfe buried in iealousie & despaire, which cannot in the end but bring my life to no other passe, then to that which is infallibly expected of them. After this, forgotten Syrenus to the tune of his Rebecke began to sing this song following.

WEepe not my dolefull eies,
But if you weepe, thinke (at the lest)
They tolde no trueth but lies,
And then it may be you may rest.

Since that imagination
Doth cause so much in euery state,
Thinke that she loues thee as of late,
And thou shalt haue lesse passion.

And if you will (mine eies)
Haue ease, imagine then the best,
And that they told you lies:
And so perhaps you may haue rest.

Thinke that she loues as well,
As euer she did heretofore:
But this sad men caunot restore,
To thinke what once befell:

Then mournfull eies, where lies
Your helpe? Yet thinke of some at lest,
If not, weepe still mine eies,
Or make an end, and you shall rest.

After that sorrowfull Syrenus with many teares had made an end of his song, de∣spised Syluanus began his thus.

MY life (yoong Shepherdesse) for thee
Of needes to death must post;
But yet my greefe must stay with mee
After my life is lost.

The greeuous ill, by death that cured is
Continually hath remedie at hand:
But not that torment, that is like to this,
That in slowe time, and fortunes meanes doth stand.