Ap.  What seeke you, prettie mayde?

Eu.  Forsooth, my heard of Deere.

Ap.  I sawe them lately, but they are not heere.

Eu.  I pray, sir, where?

Ap.  An houre agoe, or twaine, I sawe them feeding all aboue the plaine.

Eu.  So much the more the toile to fetch them in.  I thanke you, sir.

Ap.  Nay, stay, sweet Nymph, with mee.

Eu.  My busines cannot so dispatched bee.

Ap.  But pray ye, Maide, it will be verie good To take the shade in this vnhaunted wood.  This flouring bay, with branches large and great, Will shrowd ye safely from the parching heat.

Eu.  Good sir, my busines calls me hence in haste.

Ap.  O stay with him who conquered thou hast,
With him whose restles thoughts do beat on thee,
With him that ioyes thy wished face to see,
With him whose ioyes surmount all ioyes aboue
If thou wouldst thinke him worthie of thy loue.

Eu.  Why, Sir, would you desire another make, And weare that garland for your mistres sake?

Ap.  No, Nymph; although I loue this laurel tree, My fancy ten times more affecteth thee:  And, as the bay is alwaies fresh and greene, So shall my loue as fresh to thee be seene.

Eu.  Now truly, sir, you offer me great wrong To hold me from my busines here so long.

Ap.  O stay, sweet Nymph; with more aduisement view
What one he is that for thy grace doth sue. 
I am not one that haunts on hills or Rocks,
I am no shepheard wayting on my flocks,
I am no boystrous Satyre, no nor Faune,
That am with pleasure of thy beautie drawne: 
Thou dost not know, God wot, thou dost not know
The wight whose presence thou disdainest so.

Eu.  But I may know, if you wold please to tell.

Ap.  My father in the highest heauen doth dwell
And I am knowne the sonne of Ioue to bee,
Whereon the folke of Delphos honor mee. 
By me is knowne what is, what was, and what shall bee;
By me are learnde the Rules of harmonie;
By me the depth of Phisicks lore is found,
And power of Hearbes that grow vpon the ground;
And thus, by circumstances maist thou see
That I am Phoebus who doth fancie thee.

Eu.  No, sir; by these discourses may I see
You mock me with a forged pedegree. 
If sonne you bee to Ioue, as erst ye said,
In making loue vnto a mortall maide
You work dishonour to your deitie. 
I must be gonne; I thanke ye for your curtesie.

Ap.  Alas, abandon not thy Louer so!

Eu.  I pray, sir, hartily giue me leaue to goe.

Ap.  The way ore growne with shrubs and bushes thick, The sharpened thornes your tender feete will pricke, The brambles round about your traine will lappe, The burs and briers about your skirts will wrappe.