Eu.  If, Phoebus, thou of Ioue the ofspring be,
Dishonor not thy deitie so much
With profered force a silly mayd to touch;
For doing so, although a god thou bee,
The earth and men on earth shall ring thy infamie.

Ap.  Hard speech to him that loueth thee so well.

Eu.  What know I that?

Ap.  I know it and can tell, And feel it, too.

Eu.  If that your loue be such As you pretend, so feruent and so much, For proofe thereof graunt me but one request.

Ap.  I will, by Ioue my father, I protest,
Provided first that thy petition bee
Not hurtfull to thy selfe, nor harme to mee. 
For so sometimes did Phaeton my sonne
Request a thing whereby he was vndone;
He lost his life through craving it, and I
Through graunting it lost him, my sonne, thereby.

Eu.  Thus, Phoebus, thus it is; if thou be hee
That art pretended in thy pedegree,
If sonne thou be to Iove, as thou doest fame,
And chalengest that tytle not in vaine,
Now heer bewray some signe of godhead than,
And chaunge me straight from shape of mayd to man.

Ap.  Alas! what fond desire doth moue thy minde
To wish thee altered from thy native kinde,
If thou in this thy womans form canst move
Not men but gods to sue and seeke thy love? 
Content thyselfe with natures bountie than,
And covet not to beare the shape of man. 
And this moreover will I say to thee: 
Fairer man then mayde thou shalt neuer bee.

Eu.  These vaine excuses manifestly showe
Whether you usurp Appollos name or no. 
Sith my demaund so far surmounts your art,
Ye ioyne exceptions on the other part.

Ap.  Nay, then, my doubtles Deitie to prove,
Although thereby for ever I loose my Love,
I graunt thy wish:  thou art become a man,
I speake no more then well perform I can. 
And, though thou walke in chaunged bodie now,
This penance shall be added to thy vowe: 
Thyself a man shalt love a man in vaine,
And, loving, wish to be a maide againe.

Eu. Appollo, whether I love a man or not,
I thanke ye:  now I will accept my lot;
And, sith my chaunge hath disappointed you,
Ye are at libertie to love anew.
                                   [Exit.

Ap.  If ever I love, sith now I am forsaken,
Where next I love it shall be better taken. 
But, what so ere my fate in loving bee,
Yet thou maist vaunt that Phoebus loved thee.
                                       [Exit Appollo.

Enter Ioculo, Frisco, and Mopso, at three severall doores.

Mop. Ioculo, whither iettest thou?  Hast thou found thy maister?

Io. Mopso, wel met; hast thou found thy mistresse?