Sil. Is it a bargaine Gemulo or not?
Ge. Thou never knew'st me breake my word, I wot, Nor will I now, betide me bale or blis.
Sil. Nor I breake mine: and here her cottage is, Ile call her forth.
Ge. Will Silvio be so rude?
Sil. Never shall we betwixt ourselves conclude Our controversie, for we overweene.
Ge. Not I but thou; for though thou iet'st in greene,
As fresh as meadow in a morne of May,
And scorn'st the shepheard for he goes in gray.
But, Forrester, beleeve it as thy creede,
My mistresse mindes my person not my weede.
Sil. So 'twas I thought: because she tends thy sheepe
Thou thinkst in love of thee she taketh keepe;
That is as townish damzels, lend the hand
But send the heart to him aloofe doth stande:
So deales Eurymine with Silvio.
Ge. Al be she looke more blithe on Gemulo Her heart is in the dyall of her eye, That poynts me hers.
Sil. That shall we quickly trye. Eurymine!
Ge. Erynnis, stop thy throte;
Unto thy hound thou hallowst such a note.
I thought that shepheards had bene mannerlesse,
But wood-men are the ruder groomes I guesse.