lynde."

"Ah, good Ganymede," quoth he, "by naming Rosalynde, renew not my
sorrows; for the thought of her perfections is the thrall of my
miseries."

"Tush, be of good cheer, man," quoth Ganymede: "I have a friend that
is deeply experienced in negromancy and magic; what art can do shall
be acted for thine advantage: I will cause him to bring in Rosalynde,
if either France or any bordering nation harbor her; and upon that
take the faith of a young shepherd."

Aliena smiled to see how Rosader frowned, thinking that Ganymede had
jested with him. But, breaking off from those matters, the page,
somewhat pleasant, began to discourse unto them what had passed
between him and Phoebe; which, as they laughed, so they wondered at,
all confessing that there is none so chaste but love will change. Thus
they passed away the day in chat, and when the sun began to set they
took their leaves and departed; Aliena providing for their marriage
day such solemn cheer and handsome robes as fitted their country
estate, and yet somewhat the better, in that Rosader had promised to
bring Gerismond thither as a guest. Ganymede, who then meant to
discover herself before her father, had made her a gown of green, and
a kirtle of the finest sendal,[1] in such sort that she seemed some
heavenly nymph harbored in country attire.

[Footnote 1: a thin silk.]

Saladyne was not behind in care to set out the nuptials, nor Rosader
unmindful to bid guests, who invited Gerismond and all his followers
to the feast, who willingly granted, so that there was nothing but the
day wanting to this marriage.

In the meanwhile, Phoebe being a bidden guest made herself as gorgeous
as might be to please the eye of Ganymede; and Montanus suited
himself with the cost of many of his flocks to be gallant against the
day, for then was Ganymede to give Phoebe an answer of her loves, and
Montanus either to hear the doom of his misery, or the censure of his
happiness. But while this gear was a-brewing, Phoebe passed not one
day without visiting her Ganymede, so far was she wrapped in the
beauties of this lovely swain. Much prattle they had, and the
discourse of many passions, Phoebe wishing for the day, as she
thought, of her welfare, and Ganymede smiling to think what unexpected
events would fall out at the wedding. In these humors the week went
away, that at last Sunday came.

No sooner did Phoebus' henchman appear in the sky, to give warning
that his master's horses