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had forgotten her for the loue of another, whose sight he now enioyed euery day with great contentment of his newe loue, then that Syrenushad freed himselfe out of her loue, whom nowe no new affection mooued. When Syluanus heard what Diana said, he answered her thus. Time, and the reuolutions of the heauens shall first cease (faire Diana) before I will forget thee, for thy beautie and wisedome is not such, that may be euer put in obliuion. Truth it is that I am now bound to my Sel∣uagia, bicause (besides many other good parts in her obliging me to her loue) she ne∣uer esteemed her Fortune to bee woorse by this, that she is nowe beloued of him, whom thou did’st alway so reiect and make so small account of. No more of this (saide Diana) for thou art well bestowed, and I was not well aduised by not louing thee, as thy loue deserued it at my hands. But if at anytime thou didst desire to giue me some content, I beseech thee (al I may) and thy faire Seluagia, to sing some song, to entertaine the time, and to passe the heate of the day a•way; which now beginnes so fast, that we must be faine to passe it vnder these Sicamours, and there enioy the bubling of this cleere spring, which shall not a little helpe the sweetenes of your song. The new louers were not daintie to be praied, though faire Seluagia was not very well content with this kinde of talke that Diana had with Syluanus. But bicause in her song, she thought to be reuenged on her, to the tune that Diana plaied on her Bagpipe, both of them began to sing as followeth.

I See thee iolly Shepherd merry,
And firme thy faith and sound as a berry.
Loue gaue me ioy, and fortune gaue it,
As my desire could wish to haue it.
What didst thou wish, tell me (sweete louer)
Whereby thou might’st such ioy recouer?
To loue where loue should be inspired,
Since there’s no more to be desired.
In this great glory, and great gladnes,
Think’st thou to haue no touch of sadnes?
Good for tune gaue me not such glory,
To mocke my loue, or make me sorie.
If my firme loue I were denying,
Tell me, with sighes would’st thou be dying?
Those wordes in iest to heare thee speaking,
For very greefe my hart is breaking.
Yet would’st thou change, I pray thee tell me,
In seeing one, that did excell me?
O noe, for how can I aspire,
To more then to mine owne desire.
Such great affection dost thou beare me
As by thy wordes thou seem’st to sweare me?
Of thy deserts, to which a detter
I am, thou maist demaund this better.
Sometimes me thinkes, that I should sweare it,
Sometimes me thinkes, thou should’st not beare it.
Onely in this, my pap doth greeue me,
And my desire, not to beleeue me.