ELICIO. Now the fair sun sinks o'er the hill to rest, The growing gloom doth, best of friends, invite Us to repose, the night is drawing nigh. ERASTRO. The village draweth nigh, for rest I long. ELICIO. Let us put silence to our wonted song. Those who were listening to Elicio and Erastro would have held it a good thing that the way should be prolonged in order to enjoy more the agreeable song of the love-sick shepherds; but the closing-in of night and their coming to the village caused them to cease from it, and Aurelio, Galatea, Rosaura, and Florisa to betake themselves to their house. Elicio and Erastro likewise went to theirs, with the intention of going forthwith to where Thyrsis and Damon and the other shepherds were, for so it was agreed between them and Galatea's father. They were only waiting until the white moon should banish the darkness of the night; and as soon as she showed her fair face, they went to seek Aurelio, and all together made their way towards the hermitage, where there happened to them what will be seen in the following book. BOOK V. So great was the desire the love-sick Timbrio and the two fair sisters Nisida and Blanca felt to reach Silerio's hermitage that the swiftness of their steps, though it was great, could not come up to that of their will; and, knowing this, Thyrsis and Damon would not press Timbrio to fulfil the word he had given to relate to them on the way all that had happened during his travels after he departed from Silerio. Nevertheless, carried away by the desire they had to learn it, they were just going to ask it of him, had there not at that moment smitten the ears of all the voice of a shepherd, who was singing amongst some green trees a little way off the road; from the somewhat untuneful sound of his voice, and from what he was singing, he was at once recognised by most of those who were coming along, especially by his friend Damon, for it was the shepherd Lauso who was repeating some verses to the sound of a small rebeck. And because the shepherd was so well known, and all had learned of the change which had taken place in his inclination, they checked their steps of one accord, and stopped to listen to what Lauso was singing, which was this: LAUSO. Who hath come a slave to make Of my thought, with freedom filled? Who, where fortune did forsake, Lofty towers of wind could build On foundations doomed to break? Who my freedom took away, What time I in safety lay, And with life was satisfied? Who my breast hath opened wide, And hath made my will decay?