"Why, then," quoth Gerismond, "Rosader take her: she is thine, and let this day solemnize both thy brother's and thy nuptials." Rosader beyond measure content, humbly thanked the king, and embraced his Rosalynde, who turning to Phoebe, demanded if she had shown sufficient reason to suppress the force of her loves.
"Yea," quoth Phoebe, "and so great a persuasive, that if it please you, madame, and Aliena to give us leave, Montanus and I will make this day the third couple in marriage."
She had no sooner spake this word, but Montanus threw away his garland of willow, his bottle, where was painted despair, and cast his sonnets in the fire, showing himself as frolic as Paris when he handselled[1] his love with Helena. At this Gerismond and the rest smiled, and concluded that Montanus and Phoebe should keep their wedding with the two brethren. Aliena seeing Saladyne stand in a dump,[2] to wake him from his dream began thus:
[Footnote 1: began.]
[Footnote 2: revery.]
"Why how now, my Saladyne, all amort?[1] what melancholy, man, at the day of marriage? Perchance thou art sorrowful to think on thy brother's high fortunes, and thine own base desires to choose so mean a shepherdess. Cheer up thy heart, man; for this day thou shalt be married to the daughter of a king; for know, Saladyne, I am not Aliena, but Alinda, the daughter of thy mortal enemy Torismond."
[Footnote 1: dead.]
At this all the company was amazed, especially Gerismond, who rising up, took Alinda in his arms, and said to Rosalynde: "Is this that fair Alinda famous for so many virtues, that forsook her father's court to live with thee exiled in the country?"
"The same," quoth Rosalynde.
"Then," quoth Gerismond, turning to Saladyne, "jolly forester be frolic, for thy fortunes are great, and thy desires excellent; thou hast got a princess as famous for her perfection, as exceeding in proportion."