Or. And, mistresse, so good fortune be your guide, And ought that may be fortunate beside.
[Exeunt.
Eu. The like I wish vnto your selues againe,
And many happy days deuoyd of paine.—
And now Eurymine record thy state,
So much deiected and opprest by fate.
What hope remaines? wherein hast thou to ioy?
Wherein to tryumph but thine owne annoy?
If euer wretch might tell of miserie
Then I, alas, poore I, am only she;
Vnknowne of parents, destitute of friends,
Hopefull of nought but what misfortune sends;
Banisht, to liue a fugitiue alone
In vncoth[98] paths and regions neuer knowne.
Behold, Ascanio, for thy only sake,
These tedious trauels I must undertake.
Nor do I grudge; the paine seemes lesse to mee
In that I suffer this distresse for thee.
Enter Siluio, a Raunger.
Sil. Well met, fair Nymph, or Goddesse if ye bee; Tis straunge, me thinkes, that one of your degree Should walke these solitary groues alone.
Eu. It were no maruel, if you knew my mone. But what are you that question me so far?
Sil. My habit telles you that, a Forrester; That, hauing lost a heard of skittish Deire, Was of good hope I should haue found them heere.
Eu. Trust me, I saw not any; so farewell.
Sil. Nay stay, and further of your fortunes tell; I am not one that meanes you any harme.
Enter Gemulo, the Shepheard.