good the lack of means Silerio would have to entertain such guests. With this understanding they went away, some in one direction and some in another, and missing the old Arsindo at the leave-taking, they saw that, without taking leave of any one, he was going in the distance by the same way Galercio and Maurisa and the veiled shepherdesses were pursuing, whereat they wondered; and seeing that now the sun was hastening his course to enter by the gates of the west, they did not wish to delay there further, in order to come to the village before the shades of night. Elicio and Erastro then, seeing themselves before the lady of their thoughts, in order to show somewhat that which they could not conceal, and to lighten the fatigue of the way, and also to fulfil the bidding of Florisa, who bade them sing something whilst they were going to the village, to the sound of Florisa's pipe began, Elicio to sing and Erastro to reply in this wise: ELICIO. Whoso would fain the greatest beauty find That was, or is, or shall be on the earth, The fire and crucible, where are refined White chastity and purest zeal, all worth, Being, and understanding of the mind, A Heaven that in the world had its new birth, Loftiness joined in one with courtesy, Let him approach my shepherdess to see. ERASTRO. Let him approach my shepherdess to see, Whoso would tell the peoples of the sight That he hath seen, a sun whose radiancy The day illumined, than the sun more bright; How with her fire she chilleth, this can be Made known, and how the soul she sets alight Which touched by her fair flashing eyes has been, That naught is left to see when they are seen. ELICIO. That naught is left to see when they are seen, This truth full well my wearied eyes do know, Eyes that unto my hurt so fair have been, The chief occasion of my bitter woe: I saw them, and I saw my soul therein Burning, the spoils of all its powers aglow, Yielding in sweet surrender to their flame, Which doth me summon, banish, freeze, inflame. ERASTRO. She doth me summon, banish, freeze, inflame, She, the sweet enemy unto my glory, From whose illustrious life and being fame Can weave a strange, and yet a truthful story: Her eyes alone, wherein Love sets his claim To power, and all his winsomeness before ye, Present a theme to raise to Heaven's height A quill from any wing of lowly flight.