Cor. I will gather Peares my louely one, to put in thy lap.
Phil. (25) I will buy my true-Loue Garters gay, for Sundayes, for Sundayes, to weare about his legs so tall:
Cor. I will buy my true-Loue yellow Say, for Sundayes, for Sundayes, (30) to weare about her middle small.
Phil. When my Coridon sits on a hill, making melodie:
Cor. When my louely one goes to her wheelesinging cherilie.
Phil. (35) Sure me thinks my true-Loue dooth excell for sweetnes, for sweetnes, our Pan that old Arcadian Knight:
Cor. And me thinks my true-Loue beares the bell for clearenes, for clearenes, (40) beyond the Nimphs that be so bright.
Phil. Had my Coridon, my Coridon, beene (alack) my Swaine:
Cor. Had my louely one, my louely one, beene in Ida plaine. +
Cor. The Queene of Loue had beene excus’d, bequeathing, bequeathing, (50) my Phillida the golden ball.
Phil. Yonder comes my Mother, Coridon, whether shall I flie?
Cor. Vnder yonder Beech my louely one, while she passeth by. (55) Say to her thy true-Loue was not heere, remember, remember, to morrow is another day: +