Willy.
How now, shepherde, what meanes that?
Why that willowe in thy hat?
Why thy scarffes of red and yellowe
Turn'd to branches of greene willowe?
Cuddy.
They are chang'd, and so am I; 5
Sorrowes live, but pleasures die:
Phillis hath forsaken mee,
Which makes me weare the willowe-tree.
Willy.
Phillis! shee that lov'd thee long?
Is shee the lass hath done thee wrong? 10
Shee that lov'd thee long and best,
Is her love turn'd to a jest?
Cuddy.