“Ay me! now I see, and sorrowing sigh to see, that Diana’s laurels are harbors for Venus’ doves; that there trace as well through the lawns wantons as chaste ones; that Calisto, be she never so chary, will cast one amorous eye at courting Jove; that Diana herself will change her shape, but she will honor Love in a shadow; that maidens’ eyes be they as hard as diamonds, yet Cupid hath drugs to make them more pliable than wax.  See, Alinda, how Fortune and Love have interleagued themselves to be thy foes, and to make thee their subject, or else an abject, have inveigled thy sight with a most beautiful object.  A-late thou didst hold Venus for a giglot, not a goddess, and now thou shalt be forced to sue suppliant to her deity.  Cupid was a boy and blind; but, alas, his eye had aim enough to pierce thee to the heart.  While I lived in the court I held love in contempt, and in high seats I had small desires.  I knew not affection while I lived in dignity, nor could Venus countercheck me, as long as my fortune was majesty, and my thoughts honor; and shall I now be high in desires, when I am made low by destiny?  I have heard them say, that Love looks not at low cottages, that Venus jets[1] in robes not in rags, that Cupid flies so high, that he scorns to touch poverty with his heel.  Tush, Alinda, these are but old wives’ tales, and neither authentical precepts, nor infallible principles; for experience tells thee, that peasants have their passions as well as princes, that swains as they have their labors, so they have their amours, and Love lurks as soon about a sheepcote as a palace.

[Footnote 1:  struts.]

“Ah, Alinda, this day in avoiding a prejudice thou art fallen into a deeper mischief; being rescued from the robbers, thou art become captive to Saladyne:  and what then?  Women must love, or they must cease to live; and therefore did nature frame them fair, that they might be subjects to fancy.  But perhaps Saladyne’s eye is levelled upon a more seemlier saint.  If it be so, bear thy passions with patience; say Love hath wronged thee, that hath not wrung him; and if he be proud in contempt, be thou rich in content, and rather die than discover any desire:  for there is nothing more precious in a woman than to conceal love and to die modest.  He is the son and heir of Sir John of Bordeaux, a youth comely enough:  O Alinda, too comely, else hadst not thou been thus discontent; valiant, and that fettered thine eye; wise, else hadst thou not been now won; but for all these virtues banished by thy father, and therefore if he know thy parentage, he will hate the fruit for the tree, and condemn the young scion for the old stock.  Well, howsoever, I must love, and whomsoever, I will; and, whatsoever betide, Aliena will think well of Saladyne, suppose he of me as he please.”