_Lalus._ Sweet _Lirope_ I haue a Lambe Newly wayned from the Damme, _* Without Of the right kinde, it is *notted, hornes._ Naturally with purple spotted, Into laughter it will put you, To see how prettily 'twill But you; 90 When on sporting it is set, It will beate you a Corvet, And at euery nimble bound Turne it selfe aboue the ground; When tis hungry it will bleate, From your hand to haue its meate, And when it hath fully fed, It will fetch Iumpes aboue your head, As innocently to expresse Its silly sheepish thankfullnesse, 100 When you bid it, it will play, Be it either night or day, This _Lirope_ I haue for thee, So thou alone wilt liue with me.
_Cleon._ From him O turne thine eare away, And heare me my lou'd _Lirope_, I haue a Kid as white as milke, His skin as soft as _Naples_ silke, His hornes in length are wondrous euen, And curiously by nature writhen; 110 It is of th' Arcadian kinde, Ther's not the like twixt either _Inde_; If you walke, 'twill walke you by, If you sit downe, it downe will lye, It with gesture will you wooe, And counterfeit those things you doe; Ore each Hillock it will vault, And nimbly doe the Summer-sault, Upon the hinder Legs 'twill goe, And follow you a furlong so, 120 And if by chance a Tune you roate, 'Twill foote it finely to your note, Seeke the worlde and you may misse To finde out such a thing as this; This my loue I haue for thee So thou'lt leaue him and goe with me.
_Lirope._ Beleeue me Youths your gifts are rare, And you offer wondrous faire; _Lalus_ for Lambe, _Cleon_ for Kyd, 'Tis hard to iudge which most doth bid, 130 And haue you two such things in store, And I n'er knew of them before? Well yet I dare a Wager lay That _Brag_ my little Dog shall play, As dainty tricks when I shall bid, As _Lalus_ Lambe, or _Cleons_ Kid. But t' may fall out that I may neede them Till when yee may doe well to feed them; Your Goate and Mutton pretty be But Youths these are noe bayts for me, 140 Alasse good men, in vaine ye wooe, 'Tis not your Lambe nor Kid will doe.
_Lalus._ I haue two Sparrowes white as Snow, Whose pretty eyes like sparkes doe show; In her Bosome _Venus_ hatcht them Where her little _Cupid_ watcht them, Till they too fledge their Nests forsooke Themselues and to the Fields betooke, Where by chance a Fowler caught them Of whom I full dearely bought them; 150 _* The redde They'll fetch you Conserue from the *Hip, fruit of the And lay it softly on your Lip, smooth Through their nibling bills they'll Chirup Bramble._ And fluttering feed you with the Sirup, And if thence you put them by They to your white necke will flye, And if you expulse them there They'll hang vpon your braded Hayre; You so long shall see them prattle Till at length they'll fall to battle, 160 And when they haue fought their fill, You will smile to see them bill These birds my _Lirope's_ shall be So thou'lt leaue him and goe with me.