[Footnote 1:  trace, walk.]

    MONTANUS

    All adder-like I stop mine ears, fond swain,
    So charm no more, for I will never change. 
    Call home thy flocks in time that straggling range,
    For lo, the sun declineth hence amain.

    TERENTIUS

In amore haec omnia insunt vitia:  induciae, inimicitiae, bellum, pax rursum:  incerta haec si tu postules ratione certa fieri, nihilo plus agas, quam si des operam, ut cum ratione insanias.

The shepherds having thus ended their eclogue, Aliena stepped with Ganymede from behind the thicket; at whose sudden sight the shepherds arose, and Aliena saluted them thus: 

“Shepherds, all hail, for such we deem you by your flocks, and lovers, good luck, for such you seem by your passions, our eyes being witness of the one, and our ears of the other.  Although not by love, yet by fortune, I am a distressed gentlewoman, as sorrowful as you are passionate, and as full of woes as you of perplexed thoughts.  Wandering this way in a forest unknown, only I and my page, wearied with travel, would fain have some place of rest.  May you appoint us any place of quiet harbor, be it never so mean, I shall be thankful to you, contented in myself, and grateful to whosoever shall be mine host.”

Corydon, hearing the gentlewoman speak so courteously, returned her mildly and reverently this answer: 

“Fair mistress, we return you as hearty a welcome as you gave us a courteous salute.  A shepherd I am, and this a lover, as watchful to please his wench as to feed his sheep:  full of fancies, and therefore, say I, full of follies.  Exhort him I may, but persuade him I cannot; for love admits neither of counsel nor reason.  But leaving him to his passions, if you be distressed, I am sorrowful such a fair creature is crossed with calamity; pray for you I may, but relieve you I cannot.  Marry, if you want lodging, if you vouch to shroud yourselves in a shepherd’s cottage, my house for this night shall be your harbor.”

Aliena thanked Corydon greatly, and presently sate her down and Ganymede by her.  Corydon looking earnestly upon her, and with a curious survey viewing all her perfections, applauded (in his thought) her excellence, and pitying her distress was desirous to hear the cause of her misfortunes, began to question her thus: 

“If I should not, fair damosel, occasion offence, or renew your griefs by rubbing the scar, I would fain crave so much favor as to know the cause of your misfortunes, and why, and whither you wander with your page in so dangerous a forest?”

Aliena, that was as courteous as she was fair, made this reply: