]
The forester at this smiling, shook his head, and folding his arms
made this merry reply:
"Truth, gentle swain, Rosader hath his Rosalynde; but as Ixion had
Juno, who, thinking to possess a goddess, only embraced a cloud: in
these imaginary fruitions of fancy I resemble the birds that fed
themselves with Zeuxis' painted grapes; but they grew so lean with
pecking at shadows, that they were glad, with Aesop's cock, to scrape
for a barley cornel.[1] So fareth it with me, who to feed myself with
the hope of my mistress's favors, sooth myself in thy suits, and only
in conceit reap a wished-for content; but if my food be no better than
such amorous dreams, Venus at the year's end shall find me but a lean
lover. Yet do I take these follies for high fortunes, and hope these
feigned affections do divine some unfeigned end of ensuing fancies."
[Footnote 1: kernel.]
"And thereupon," quoth Aliena, "I'll play the priest: from this day
forth Ganymede shall call thee husband, and thou shall call Ganymede
wife, and so we'll have a marriage."
"Content," quoth Rosader, and laughed.
"Content," quoth Ganymede, and changed as red as a rose: and so with a
smile and a blush, they made up this jesting match, that after proved
to a marriage in earnest, Rosader full little thinking he had wooed
and won his Rosalynde.
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