these follies for high fortunes, and hope these
feigned affections do divine some unfeigned end of ensuing fancies."

[Footnote 1: kernel.]

"And thereupon," quoth Aliena, "I'll play the priest: from this day
forth Ganymede shall call thee husband, and thou shall call Ganymede
wife, and so we'll have a marriage."

"Content," quoth Rosader, and laughed.

"Content," quoth Ganymede, and changed as red as a rose: and so with a
smile and a blush, they made up this jesting match, that after proved
to a marriage in earnest, Rosader full little thinking he had wooed
and won his Rosalynde.

But all was well; hope is a sweet string to harp on, and therefore
let the forester awhile shape himself to his shadow, and tarry
fortune's leisure, till she may make a metamorphosis fit for his
purpose. I digress; and therefore to Aliena, who said, the wedding was
not worth a pin, unless there were some cheer, nor that bargain well
made that was not stricken up with a cup of wine: and therefore she
willed Ganymede to set out such cates as they had, and to draw out her
bottle, charging the forester, as he had imagined his loves, so to
conceit these cates to be a most sumptuous banquet, and to take a
mazer[1] of wine and to drink to his Rosalynde; which Rosader did, and
so they passed away the day in many pleasant devices. Till at last
Aliena perceived time would tarry no man, and that the sun waxed very
low, ready to set, which made her shorten their amorous prattle, and
end the banquet with a fresh carouse: which done, they all three
arose, and Aliena broke off thus:

[Footnote 1: mug.]

"Now, forester, Phoebus that all this while hath been partaker of our
sports, seeing every woodman more fortunate in his loves than he in
his fancies, seeing thou hast won Rosalynde when he could not woo
Daphne, hides his head for shame and bids us adieu in a cloud. Our
sheep, they poor wantons, wander towards their folds, as taught by
nature their due times of rest, which tells us, forester, we must
depart. Marry, though there were a marriage, yet I must carry this
night the bride with me, and to-morrow morning if you meet us here,
I'll promise to deliver you her as good a maid as I find her."

"Content," quoth Rosader, "'tis enough for me in the night to dream on
love, that in the day am so fond to doat on love: and so till
to-morrow you to your folds, and I will to my lodge." And thus the
forester and they parted.

He was no sooner gone, but A