So brought he them up to visit his wife, where, between her and him, the poor Zelmane received a tedious entertainment; oppressed with being loved, almost as much, as with loving. Basilius not so wise in covering his passion, could make his tongue go almost no other pace, but to run into those immoderate praises which the foolish lover thinks short of his mistress, though they reach far beyond the heavens. But Gynecia, whom womanly modesty did more outwardly bridle, yet did sometimes use the advantage of her sex in kissing Zelmane, as she sat upon her bed-side by her, which was but still more and more sweet incense to cast upon the fire wherein her heart was sacrificed. Once Zelmane could not stir, but that, as if they had been poppets, whose motion stood only upon her pleasure, Basilius with serviceable steps, Gynecia with greedy eyes, would follow her. Basilius’s mind Gynecia well knew, and could have found in her heart to laugh at, if mirth could have born any proportion with her fortune. But all Gynecia’s actions were interpreted by Basilius, as proceeding from jealously of his amorousness. Zelmane betwixt both, like the poor child, whose father, while he beats him, will make him believe it is for love; or like the sick man, to whom the physician swears the ill-tasting wallowish medicine he proffers is of a good taste: their love was hateful, their courtesy troublesome, their presence cause of her absence thence, where not only her light, but her life consisted. Alas! thought she to herself, dear Dorus, what odds is there between thy destiny and mine? For thou hast to do, in thy pursuit but with shepherdish folks, who trouble thee with a little envious care, and affected diligence; but I, besides that I have now Miso, the worst of thy devils, let loose upon me, am waited on by princes, and watched by the two wakeful eyes of love and jealousy. Alas! incomparable Philoclea, thou ever seest me, but dost never see me as I am: thou hearest willingly all that I dare say, and I dare not say that which were most fit for thee to hear. Alas! who ever but I was imprisoned in liberty, and banished being still present? to whom but me have lovers been jailors, and honour a captivity?