While every one was amazed with these comical events, Corydon came skipping in, and told them that the priest was at church, and tarried for their coming.  With that Gerismond led the way, and the rest followed; where to the admiration of all the country swains in Arden their marriages were solemnly solemnized.  As soon as the priest had finished, home they went with Alinda, where Corydon had made all things in readiness.  Dinner was provided, and the tables being spread, and the brides set down by Gerismond, Rosader, Saladyne, and Montanus that day were servitors; homely cheer they had, such as their country could afford, but to mend their fare they had mickle good chat, and many discourses of their loves and fortunes.  About mid-dinner, to make them merry, Corydon came in with an old crowd,[1] and played them a fit of mirth, to which he sung this pleasant song: 

[Footnote 1:  an old-fashioned violin with six strings.]

Corydon’s Song

    A blithe and bonny country lass,
      heigh ho, the bonny lass! 
    Sate sighing on the tender grass
      and weeping said, will none come woo her.

    A smicker[1] boy, a lither swain,
      heigh ho, a smicker swain! 
    That in his love was wanton fain,
      with smiling looks straight came unto her.

    Whenas the wanton wench espied,
      heigh ho, when she espied! 
    The means to make herself a bride,
      she simpered smooth like Bonnybell: 
    The swain, that saw her squint-eyed kind,
      heigh ho, squint-eyed kind! 
    His arms about her body twined,
      and:  “Fair lass, how fare ye, well?”

    The country kit said:  “Well, forsooth,
      heigh ho, well forsooth! 
    But that I have a longing tooth,
      a longing tooth that makes me cry.” 
    “Alas!” said he, “what gars[2] thy grief?
      heigh ho, what gars thy grief?”
    “A wound,” quoth she, “without relief,
      I fear a maid that I shall die.” 
    “If that be all,” the shepherd said,
      heigh ho, the shepherd said! 
    “Ile make thee wive it gentle maid,
      and so recure thy malady.”

    Hereon they kissed with many an oath,
      heigh ho, with many an oath! 
    And fore God Pan did plight their troth,
      and to the church they hied them fast. 
    And God send every pretty peat,[3]
      heigh ho, the pretty peat! 
    That fears to die of this conceit,
      so kind a friend to help at last.

[Footnote 1:  amorous, wanton.]

[Footnote 2:  occasions.]

[Footnote 3:  pet.]

Corydon having thus made them merry, as they were in the midst of their jollity, word was brought in to Saladyne and Rosader that a brother of theirs, one Fernandyne, was arrived, and desired to speak with them.  Gerismond overhearing this news, demanded who it was.

“It is, sir,” quoth Rosader, “our middle brother, that lives a scholar in Paris; but what fortune hath driven him to seek us out I know not.”