Dog[1]
Full of rage,
With his ireful eyes
Frowns amidst the skies,
The shepherd, to assuage
The fury of the heat,
Himself doth safely seat
By a fount
Full of fair,
Where a gentle breath,
Mounting from beneath,
Tempereth the air.
There his flocks
Drink their fill,
And with ease repose,
Whilst sweet sleep doth close
Eyes from toilsome ill.
But I burn
Without rest,
No defensive power
Shields from Phoebe's lour;
Sorrow is my best.
Gentle Love,
Lour no more;
If thou wilt invade
In the secret shade,
Labor not so sore.
I myself
And my flocks,
They their love to please,
I myself to ease,
Both leave the shady oaks;
Content to burn in fire,
Sith Love doth so desire.

_Et florida pungunt._

[Footnote 1: Sirius, the dog star.]

Gerismond, seeing the pithy vein of those sonnets, began to make
further inquiry what he was. Whereupon Rosader discoursed unto him the
love of Montanus to Phoebe, his great loyalty and her deep cruelty,
and how in revenge the gods had made the curious nymph amorous of
young Ganymede. Upon this discourse the king was desirous to see
Phoebe, who being brought before Gerismond by Rosader, shadowed the
beauty of her face with such a vermilion teinture, that the king's
eyes began to dazzle at the purity of her excellence. After Gerismond
had fed his looks awhile upon her fair, he questioned with her why she
rewarded Montanus' love with so little regard, seeing his deserts were
many, and his passions extreme. Phoebe, to make reply to the king's
demand, answered thus:

"Love, sir, is charity in his laws, and whatsoever he sets down for
justice, be it never so unjust, the sentence cannot be reversed;
women's fancies lend favors not ever by desert, but as they are
enforced by their desires; for fancy is tied to the wings of fate, and
what the stars decree, stands for an infallible doom. I know Montanus
is wise, and women's ears are greatly delighted with wit, as hardly
escaping the charm of a pleasant tongue, as Ulysses the melody of the
Sirens. Montanus is beautiful, and women's eyes are snared in the
excellence of objects, as desirous to feed their looks with a fair
face, as the bee to suck on a sweet flower. Montanus is wealthy, and
an ounce of _give me_ persuades a woman more than a pound of