the gray lawns for Astrophel's house, that was lit with clear wax and
smelled sweet of roses. And after a while, when there had been comfit
talk and sipping of sweet wine, one sang, and another followed, while
the company listened, for they were of those who have ears to hear.
Colin sang of Rosalind; Damon, of Myra; Astrophel, of Stella; Cleon,
of--none of these things. 'Sing of love!' they cried, and he sang of
friendship;' Of the love of a woman!' and he sang to the honor of
a man."

"But in that contest he won the Countess's pearl," said the maid of
honor, her chin in her hands; "I knew (dear lady!) what, being woman,
was her inmost thought, and in my heart I did applaud her choice."

The man bent his eyes upon her for a moment, then went on with his
story, but somewhat slowly.

"When it had thus ended the day, that goodly company betook itself to
rest. But Cleon tossed upon his bed, and at the dawn, when the birds
began to sing, he arose, dressed himself, and went forth into the dewy
gardens of that lovely place. Here he walked up and down, for his unrest
would not leave him, and his heart hungered for food it had never
tasted.... There was a fountain springing from a stone basin, and all
around were set rose-bushes, seen dimly because of the mist. Presently,
when the light was stronger, issued from the house one of those nymphs
whom Astrophel's sister delighted to gather around her, and coming to
the fountain, began to search about its rim for a jewel that had been
lost. She moved like a mist wreath in that misty place, but Cleon saw
that her eyes were dark, and her lips a scarlet flower, and that grace
was in all her motions. He remembered her name, and that she was loved
of Astrophel's sister, and how sweet a lady she was called. Now he