by refraining (not to offend me) to speake of that, which concerned him most. O God, and what great reason haue I then to loue him? But who beleeues not that Parthenius, if he had also loued me, would not haue done as much. Alas then for me, to whether of them shall I incline? Must Delicius be despised, bicause he loues me, and for desiring so much my loue againe? Must I consent that he die, bicause he desireth to liue with me? Must he be guerdoned with vnworthy death for so high a desert of his great loue? O haplesse Delicius, I would I had neuer seene thee, or thou not cast thine eies vpon me? Thou well deseruest my loue, if I had not vowed cha∣stitie, and if my importunate destinies had not threatened me with marriage. But must Parthenius be reiected bicause he loues me not as Delicius doth? For this he is more woorthie to be admitted into my loue. It imports but little that he loue mee not, so I loue him that hath so many good parts in him woorthy to be beloued. That which most of all forceth me to his loue, is that I cannot suffer with patience that Crimine should loue him. But whither do I range in these wandring thoughts? what need I take such care for them, after so many whom I haue despised? Why doe I thus torment my selfe? Their beautie mooues me not (and yet the same might well do it) who are but yet boies. They themselues mooue me not, but their yong and flourishing youth. But let them go hence in a good hower, now that of mine owne free will I haue counselled them, and the rather since marriage is denied mee. Let them go, and seeke forth some other loues, since none that are wise will reiect them. But alas for me this leaue is too harde. With these last words, not able to passe on further, though many other things remained still in my minde, I held my peace, my toong was silent, but my hart did still speake. And with these and like wordes and praises (poore soule) without knowing what I did, and rude in such affaires, I loued without the sence of loue: I conceiued the fire without seeing it, and nourished a wound in my vaines without feeling it. Three or fower daies passed, in the which we went not to the Shepherds, bicause Crimine came not foorth, for seeing herselfe disdained of Parthenius, she endeuoured to forget him by her absence, which kindled her fire the more. So that I would haue beene now glad, that Parthenius had loued Crimine in lieu of seeing him and Delicius. For the which I many times importuned her, that we might go see them, by putting her in mind of the hope that Delicius had giuen her: but for all this she forced herselfe not to come before him. There remai∣ned now but two daies to come of the time prefixed for Parthenius departure, when, not able to endure so long an absence, I spake thus vnto her. It might not a little re∣ioice me (deere sister) if we went to see the Shepherds, bicause I promised to speake with Parthenius before he went. Crimine desiring the same no lesse then I (as I ima∣gined) answered me saying. Thou maiest go good friend, although I will not de∣nie, that I desire to see mine enimie. But this haplesse loue is so cruell, that I can∣not choose in the end but tell thee the truth, that my going this time will auaile me as little (I know) as other times before. Behold thou canst not tell Crimine (saide I) what Delicius hath done for thee, in recompence of the good turne he owes thee, & for the promise he made thee: and if this were not so, remember that certaine daies past, my selfe hauing lesse occasion and will to go, yet onely to content thee I went thither. So that thou art bounde now to performe my request, when I was then so willing to do thy command. Thou hast ouercommed saide she, I will nor cannot gainsay thy forcible reasons. Whereupon we went to the Shepherds, whom when I espied gone aside (for on purpose they were talking very earnestly togither) I saide to my companion. They should now talke of some great matters, and it may bee
