Then Cymoënt sent for a doctor who was so wise and so great that he was chief of all the doctors on the land. When he had examined Marinell he said, ‘The name of this illness is Love.’
Then Cymoënt begged Marinell to tell her which of the sea-nymphs it was that he loved.
‘Whoever she is that you love,’ she said, ‘I shall help you to gain her for your wife.’
So Marinell told his mother that it was no nymph of the sea that had given his heart a deeper wound than ever Britomart’s spear had dealt.
‘I love Florimell,’ he said, ‘and she lies, a dreary prisoner, in the darkest cave of the Herd of the Seas.’
At first Cymoënt was sorry, for she did not wish her son to wed a maiden from the land. But when she knew how much Marinell loved Florimell, she went to Neptune, the King of all the Seas, as he sat on his throne, his three-pronged mace in his hand, and his long hair dripping with brine.
To him she told all the tale of Marinell and Florimell and the wicked old shepherd.
And Neptune wrote a royal warrant, and sealed it with the seal of the Sea Gods, commanding his shepherd to give up Florimell at once to Cymoënt the sea-nymph.
Thankfully Cymoënt took the warrant, and swiftly swam to the shepherd’s sea-caves.
The shepherd was very angry, but all the sea-folk had to obey Neptune, so he sulkily opened the prison door and let Florimell go free.