Who may better sing and daunce amongs vs Ladies all,
Than she that doth hir louer’s heart possesse in bondage thrall?
Thys Song delighted the Myndes of many in that company, and principally Dom Deigo, and Gineura, who felt themselues tickled without laughing: And the mayden reioysed to heare hir selfe so greatly praysed in so noble a company, and specially in the presence of hir friende who had no lesse pleasure by hearing the praises of his beloued, than if he had bin made Lord of all Aragon. She for all hir dissembled Countenaunce could not hide the alteration of hir Mynde, without sending forth a sodayne chaunge of colour, that forced a fayre and goodly taynt in hir Face. Dom Diego seeing that mutation, was so ioyful as was possible, for thereby he knew and Iudged himselfe assured of the good grace of hys Mistresse, and therefore wringing hir finely by the hands, sayd vnto her very soberly Smiling: “What greater pleasure my louinge Wench can there happen vnto your Seruaunt, than to see the accomplishment of this Propheticall Song? I assure you that in all my life I neuer heard musicke, that delighted me so mutch as this, and thereby doe vnderstand the good will of the Gentlewoman, which so curteously hath discouered yours towards me, and the faythfull seruice whereof you shall see me from henceforth so liberall, as neyther goods nor life shalbe spared for your sake.” Ginuera who loued him with all hir heart, thanked him very humbly, and prayed him to beleeue that the Song was truely soonge, and that without any fayle, she that soonge, had thereby manyfested all the secrets of hir mynde. The daunce ended, they sat theym downe rounde about a cleare Fountayne, which by silent discourse, issued from an high and moysty rock, enuironned with an infinite number of Maple trees, Poplars, and Ashes. To which place a Page brought a Lute to Dom Diego, whereupon hee could play very well, and made it more pleasauntly to sound for that hee accorded hys Fayninge Voyce to the Instrument, Singing this song that followeth.
That I should loue and serue also, good reason doth require,
What though I suffre loathsome grief, my life in woe to wrap?
The same be th’only instruments of my good lucke and hap,
The foode and pray for hungry corps, of rest th’assured hire.
By thought wherof (O heauy man) gush forth of teares great store
And by and by reioyst agayne, my driery teares do cease:
Which guerdon shall mine honor sure in that triumphant peace,