University of Virginia Library

Paplet.
Now much I marl: 'Tis pretty; if tell Truth!
But say; Ha, Ha! Be He so soft in sooth?

Soflin.
My gentle Mey, he is of gentlest mood.
Oh that he were my Brother! sure I would
Taken his Hand and tender lead him in,
Whenso he to the distant Field had been.
There pretty stroak his Hand, Ne have it said
See Soflin there, O see! A fawning Maid!
In his soft Bosom I my Hand would slip,
And hang epon the sweetness of his Lip.

Paplet.
Don't, Soflin, don't! how can'st talk so? Lips sweet;
How meanest sweet? How doen know be sweet?

Soflin.
All as a-green I walk with Collikin,
The lovely'st Lad that ever walk'd a-green.
If be I'm fray'd by Flood, by Boar or Bull,
He sooth's me soft, and calls me softest Soul.
Be it not pretty? b'lieve me, Pap, he doth!
And holds me 'neath his lilly Arm now sooth!
And sweet the Swain my Hand in his will nip,
Then kiss me with the kisses of his Lip.
So save me, Sweet, as truth I tell, when say
(Why tarest the Flow'rs so fierce, my pretty Mey?)
But hear me, Chick! I seemen oft be fray,

fray. Or, affraid.

When I be not: But Maids should seem they say.

Paplet.
And so; why but—and pretty'st be't then Maid,
Be lip'd when frayed art? I'll be afraid!

Soflin.
Prettier? Oh prettier, Child, than may be thought,
You mayn't hug Men, if be you fearen nought:
But sure, so sweet it is, so hug in Arms!
Skuttle to Dear, and have him hide from harms!

Paplet.
No more, but then? Yet kind be Swains, you said;
How kind? Mayn't kiss. Would kissing kill 'em, Maid?
But soft! meseem'd—oh I'd have heard for nought
Our simple Chat, for ours is simple Chat!

Soflin.
Set still Sweet! Wind might wag: Or Leverit rush,
With Cock-up Ears: don't go! or Bird from bush.

Paplet.
That Cubbinet I fear, for whom the Meys
Late joyn'd, and bought a Pipeit; all I guess
To busy him, and keep from kissing so.
The Swain that whispers us in Ear, you know,
That he can sing, then snatches a quick kiss;
Sooth, as the Mey suspecteth nought amiss.
Now the poor Heart's so pleased with his Pipe!
'Fore Great Ones he can't hold, but lay'th to's lip.

Soflin.
I know the Swain, a tender Swain is he!
Fear him not Paplet, fear him not Sweet Mey.
I know the Swain, Who sooths so soft as he!
Believe me Lass, he'll never harm Sweet Mey.

Paplet.
Oh, but he often skulks a-hind a balk,
To hear the harmless Shepherdess in talk.
Then tells the Chat to Sparks at the great-Town,
Who maken Mock at Speech of simple Clown.
Ne strange, I trow; for say me, Sweet, is't fit

Ne. Or, Nor

Our weetless Tittletattle weren writ?
Unkindly Cubbinet! untoward boy!
Else, by my fay! he is a Gentle Boy.

Soflin.
Sooth is he, but to kissing he's so given!
He'll kiss till he's odd, and then kiss to come even.
He'll kiss at the Hedge, and he'll kiss at the Gate;
He'll kiss if the chattering Magpie but prate!

Paplet.
But how must do if Swain should ere kiss me?
He'll put my Arms around him, didst not say:
Oh!—if to put my hands a-hind he goes:
May strive pull 'way, and that will pull him close!

Soflin.
Be sure look tender, when to lip he go:
But, sooth if say, Thou canst not help look so.
That dainty dimple in thy little Cheek,
So soft thee show's, so modest, and so meek!

Paplet.
Worst is, if ever Youngling cast to lay
My hand in's bosom, 'twill so pretty be,
Not I know how, O I shan't help the fault,
But blush, poor son! how Soflie must I not?