As her wits were in a maze, (105) poore despised Mayd. And reuiued at the last, After streames of teares were past, Leaning on her Shepheards hooke, With a sad and heauie looke, (110) thus poore soule she sayd. Harpalus, I thanke not thee, For this sorry tale to mee. Meete me heere againe to morrow, Then I will conclude my sorrow (115) mildly, if may be: With their flocks they home doe fare, Eithers heart too full of care, If they doe meete againe, Then what they furder sayne, (120) you shall heare from me.
FINIS. Shep. Tonie.