Theophilus reported that he had slain Thaise, and Dionise, pretending that she had died suddenly, made a great funeral and set up a tomb with an epitaph. After this, Apollinus came to seek for his daughter at Tharsis, and hearing that she was dead, he put forth to sea again in grievous sorrow. He lay weeping alone in the darkness of the ship’s hold, until under stress of storm they came to Mitelene. (1498-1617.) Hearing of his grief, the lord of the city, Athenagoras, sent Thaise to comfort him. He at first rejected all her consolation, but then to his joy discovered that she was the daughter for whom he mourned. Athenagoras asked for her in marriage and was wedded to her. (1618-1776.) They went forth all together with intent to avenge the treason at Tharsis, but Apollinus was warned in a dream to go to Ephesim, and there in the temple of Diane he found the wife whom he supposed to have been dead. Thence they voyaged to Tyre and were received with joy. Athenagoras and Thaise were there crowned king and queen, and Apollinus sailed away and took due vengeance upon Strangulio and Dionise. (1777-1962.) When this was done, a letter came to him from Pentapolim, praying him to come and receive that kingdom, since the king was dead. They had a good voyage thither, and he and his wife were crowned there and led their life happily. (1963-2008.) Thus, my son, thou mayest see how it is with those that love in a good manner, but it is not love when men take their lust like beasts. 2029-3172. CONCLUSION. Father, I may acquit myself in this, but I entreat your counsel as to what way I shall follow in my love. I counsel thee, my son, to labour no more in things which bring thee no profit. The end of every pleasure is pain. Love is blind, and makes all his servants blind: thou mayest yet withdraw and set thyself under the law of reason. It is easy to say so, father. My woe is but a game to you, feeling nothing of that which I feel. The hart that goes free knows not the sorrows of the ox under the yoke. But I entreat you to present for me a Supplication to Venus and Cupid, and bring me a good answer back. (2009-2188.) Then arose a great debate between my Priest and me: my reason understood him well, but my will was against him. At length he agreed to deliver my Supplication, and with tears instead of ink I wrote the letter thus: ‘The wofull peine of loves maladie,’ &c. (2189-2300.)