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Dicus.
Sing then my lads, but sing with better vaine then yet,
Or else who singeth worst, my skill will hardly hit.

Nico.
Who doubts but Pas fine pipe againe will bring
The auncient prayse to Arcad shepheards skill?
Pan is not dead, since Pas beginnes to sing.

Pas.
Who evermore will love Apollos quill,
Since Nico doth to sing so widely gape?
Nico his place farre better furnish will.

Nico.
Was not this he, who did for Syrinx scape
Raging in woes teach pastors first to plaine?
Do you not heare his voice, and see his shape?

Pas.
This is not he that failed her to gaine,
Which made a Bay, made Bay a holy tree:
But this is one that doth his musicke staine.

Nico.
O Faunes, O Fairies all, and do you see,
And suffer such a wrong? a wrong I trowe,
That Nico must with Pas compared be?

Pas.
O Nymphes, I tell you newes, for Pas you knowe:
While I was warbling out your woonted praise,
Nico would needes with Pas his bagpipe blowe.

Nico.
If never I did faile your holy-dayes,
With daunces, carols, or with barlybreake:
Let Pas now know, how Nico makes the layes.

Pas.
If each day hath bene holy for your sake,
Unto my pipe, O Nimphes, helpe now my pipe,
For Pas well knowes what layes can Nico make.

Nico.
Alas how oft I looke on cherries ripe,
Me thinkes I see the lippes my Leuca hath,
And wanting her, my weeping eyes I wipe.

Pas.
Alas, when I in spring meete roses rathe,
And thinke from Cosmas sweet red lips I live,
I leave mine eyes unwipte my cheekes to bathe.

Nico.
As I of late, neer bushes usde my sive,
I spied a thrush where she did make her nest,
That will I take, and to my Leuca give.

Pas.
But long have I a sparrow gailie drest,
As white as milke, and comming to the call,
To put it with my hand in Cosmas brest.

Nico.
I oft doo sue, and Leuca saith, I shall,
But when I did come neere with heate and hope,
She ranne away, and threw at me a ball.

Pas.
Cosma once said, she left the wicket ope,
For me to come, and so she did: I came,
But in the place found nothing but a rope.

Nico.
When Leuca dooth appeare, the Sunne for shame
Dooth hide himselfe: for to himselfe he sayes,
If Leuca live, she darken will my fame.

Pas.
When Cosma doth come forth, the Sun displaies
His utmost light: for well his witte doth know,
Cosmas faire beames emblemish much his raies.

Nico.
Leuca to me did yester-morning showe
In perfect light, which could not me deceave,
Her naked legge, more white then whitest snowe.

Pas.
But yesternight by light I did receave
From Cosmas eyes, which full in darkenes shine,
I sawe her arme, where purest Lillies cleave.

Nico.
She once starke nak'd did bathe a little tine;
But still (me thought) with beauties from her fell,
She did the waters wash, and make more fine.

Pas.
She once, to coole her selfe, stood in a well,
But ever since that well is well besought,
And for Rose-water sould of rarest smell.

Nico.
To rivers banke, being on walking brought,
She bad me spie her babie in the brooke,
Alas (said I) this babe dooth nurce my thought.

Pas.
As in a glasse I held she once did looke,
I said, my hands well paide her for mine eyes,
Since in my hands selfe goodly sight she tooke.

Nico.
O if I had a ladder for the skies,
I would climbe up, and bring a prettie starre,
To weare upon her neck, that open lies.

Pas.
O if I had Apollos golden carre,
I would come downe, and yeeld to her my place,
That (shining now) she then might shine more farre.

Nico.
Nothing (O Leuca) shall thy fame deface,
While shepheards tunes be heard, or rimes be read,
Or while that shepheards love a lovely face.

Pas.
Thy name (O Cosma) shall with praise be spread,
As farre as any shepheards piping be:
As farre as Love possesseth any head.

Nico.
Thy monument is layd in many a tree,
With name engrav'd: so though thy bodie die,
The after-folkes shall wonder still at thee.

Pas.
So oft these woods have heard me Cosma crie,
That after death, to heav'n in woods resound,
With Echoes help, shall Cosma, Cosma flie.

Nico.
Peace, peace good Pas, thou weeriest even the ground
With sluttish song: I pray thee learne to blea,
For good thou mayst yet proove in sheepish sound.

Pas.
My father hath at home a prettie Jay,
Goe winne of him (for chattering) praise or shame:
For so yet of a conquest speake thou may.

Nico.
Tell me (and be my Pan) the monsters name,
That hath foure legs, and with two onely goes,
That hath foure eyes, and onely two can frame.

Pas.
Tell me (and Phœbus be) what monster growes
With so strong lives, that bodie cannot rest
In ease, untill that bodie life forgoes.

Dicus.
Enough, enough: so ill hath done the best,
That since the having them to neither's due,
Let cat and dog fight which shall have both you.