These words of Montanus brought the king into a great wonder, amazed as much at his wit as his attire, insomuch that he took the papers off his hook, and read them to this effect: _Montanus' first Sonnet_ Alas! how wander I amidst these woods Whereas no day-bright shine doth find access; But where the melancholy fleeting floods, Dark as the night, my night of woes express. Disarmed of reason, spoiled of nature's goods, Without redress to salve my heaviness I walk, whilst thought, too cruel to my harms, With endless grief my heedless judgment charms. My silent tongue assailed by secret fear, My traitorous eyes imprisoned in their joy, My fatal peace devoured in feigned cheer, My heart enforced to harbor in annoy, My reason robbed of power by yielding ear, My fond opinions slave to every toy. O Love! thou guide in my uncertain way, Woe to thy bow, thy fire, the cause of my decay. _Et florida pungunt._ When the king had read this sonnet he highly commended the device of the shepherd, that could so wittily wrap his passions in a shadow, and so covertly conceal that which bred his chiefest discontent; affirming, that as the least shrubs have their tops, the smallest hairs their shadows, so the meanest swains had their fancies, and in their kind were as chary of love as a king. Whetted on with this device, he took the second and read it: the effects were these: _Montanus' second Sonnet_ When the 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.]