But thy wit hath all too keen an edge.
LACON.
Come sing, if singing's in thee--and may our friend get back
To town alive! Heaven help us, lad, how thy tongue doth clack!
COMETAS. [_Sings_]
Daphnis the mighty minstrel was less precious to the Nine
Than I. I offered yesterday two kids upon their shrine.
LACON. [_Sings_]
Ay, but Apollo fancies me hugely: for him I rear
A lordly ram: and, look you, the Carnival is near.
COMETAS.
Twin kids hath every goat I milk, save two. My maid, my own,
Eyes me and asks 'At milking time, rogue, art thou all alone?'
LACON.
Go to! nigh twenty baskets doth Lacon fill with cheese:
Hath time to woo a sweetheart too upon the blossomed leas.
COMETAS.
Clarissa pelts her goatherd with apples, should he stray
By with his goats; and pouts her lip in a quaint charming way.
LACON.
Me too a darling smooth of face notes as I tend my flocks:
How maddeningly o'er that fair neck ripple those shining locks!
COMETAS.
Tho' dogrose and anemone are fair in their degree,
The rose that blooms by garden-walls still is the rose for me.
LACON.
Tho' acorns' cups are fair, their taste is bitterness, and still
I'll choose, for honeysweet are they, the apples of the hill.
COMETAS.
A cushat I will presently procure and give to her
Who loves me: I know where it sits; up in the juniper.
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