said, she went out of the garden, and so did Eugerius and his daughters, repayring to the chambers that Felicia had appointed for them in her pallace, which were se∣parated from that where Marcelius lay, & the rest of his company. Don Felix & Felis∣mena with the other Shepherdes and Shepherdesses taried a pretie while about the fountain, & then went to supper, appointing to meet there the next morning follo∣wing one hower before day, to take the fresh ayre of the morning. So therfore as the hope of the pleasure of the next morrowes meeting made them passe away the night with sleeping but a little, they rose vp all so earely in the morning, that before the appointed hower they were ready at the fountaine with their tuned instruments. Eugerius with his sonne and daughters aduertised of the musicke, did also rise vp, and went thither. They beganne to play and sing, and to make much sport and pa∣stime by the light of the Moone, which with a full and bright face gaue them as cleere light as if it had beene day. Marcelius, Diana, and Ismenia, laie in two cham∣bers one ioyning to the other, whose windowes looked into the garden: And al∣though they could not see the fountain thorow them, by reason of the high & thick Laurell trees which were about it, yet might they heare well what they saide. So therfore when Ismenia (lying awake) heard the noise they made, and the merriment and songs of the Shepherds, she awaked Diana, and Diana knocking at the wall that was betweene both their chambers awoke Marcelius, and so all of them went to their windowes where they were neither seene nor knowne. Marcelius gaue at∣tentiue care, if he might perhaps heare Alcidas voice. Diana did diligently listen to heare her Syrenus. Ismenia onely had no hope to heare her Montanus, bicause she knew not that he was there. But yet her Fortune was better then she was aware of, for at that very instant a Shepherd sung to the sound of his Baggepipe this Sextine that followes.
THe faire, the fresh, the red, and rosie morning
Doth follow still the long and tedious night,
And after darknes comes the sun shine day,
When Nymphes goe foorth to walke the freshest meades,
The aire resounding with their sweetest songs,
And cheerefull notes of many chirping birdes.
I am lesse happy then the pretie birdes,
That are saluting of the merrie morning,
With ratling foorth their sugred notes and songs:
For in the morne I mourne, as in the night,
Be this a desart or most fragrant meade,
Be this a cloudie or most shining day.
In such a haplesse hower, and dismall day
So dead I was, that neuer can these birdes,
Which in the dawning ioy both hill and meade,
Nor the Vermillion face of freshest morning
Driue from my soule a darke and deadly night,
Nor from my brest a lamentable song.
My voice shall neuer change her woonted song,
And for my selfe it neuer will be day:
