2 _Cha_. No, _Phoebus_? what other pastime shall we finde To make ye merry with? _Ap_. Faire dames, I thanke you all; No sport nor pastime can release my thrall. My grief's of course; when it the course hath had, I shall be merrie and no longer sad. 1 _Cha_. What will ye then we doo? _Ap_. And please ye, you may goe, And leaue me here to feed vpon my woe. 2 _Cha_. Then, _Phoebus, we can but wish ye wel againe. [_Exeunt Charites_. _Ap_. I thanke ye, gentle Ladies, for your paine.-- O _Phoebus_, wretched thou, thus art thou faine With forg'de excuses to conceale thy paine. O, _Hyacinth_, I suffer not these fits For thee, my Boy; no, no, another sits Deeper then thou in closet of my brest, Whose sight so late hath wrought me this unrest. And yet no Goddesse nor of heauenly kinde She is, whose beautie thus torments my minde; No Fayrie Nymph that haunts these pleasaunt woods, No Goddesse of the flowres, the fields, nor floods: Yet such an one whom iustly I may call A Nymph as well as any of them all. _Eurymine_, what heauen affoords thee heere? So may I say, because thou com'st so neere, And neerer far vnto a heauenly shape Than she of whom _Ioue_ triumph't in the Rape. Ile sit me downe and wake my griefe againe To sing a while in honour of thy name. THE SONG. Amidst the mountaine Ida groues, Where _Paris_ kept his Heard, Before the other Ladies all He would haue thee prefer'd. _Pallas_, for all her painting, than Her face would seeme but pale, Then _Iuno_ would haue blush't for shame And _Venus_ looked stale. _Eurymine_, thy selfe alone Shouldst beare the golden ball; So far would thy most heauenly forme Excell the others all; O happie _Phoebus_! happie then, Most happie should I bee If faire _Eurymine_ would please To ioyne in loue with mee. _Enter Eurymine_. _Eu_. Although there be such difference in the chaunge To Hue in Court and desart woods to raunge, Yet in extremes, wherein we cannot chuse, An extreame refuge is not to refuse. Good gentlemen, did any see my heard? I shall not finde them out I am afeard; And yet my maister wayteth with his bowe Within a standeing, for to strike a Doe. You saw them not, your silence makes me doubt; I must goe further till I finde them out. _Ap_. What seeke you, prettie mayde? _Eu_. Forsooth, my heard of Deere. _Ap_. I sawe them lately, but they are not heere. _Eu_. I pray, sir, where? _Ap_. An houre agoe, or twaine, I sawe them feeding all aboue the plaine. _Eu_. So much the more the toile to fetch them in. I thanke you, sir. _Ap_. Nay, stay, sweet Nymph, with mee. _Eu_. My busines cannot so dispatched bee. _Ap_. But pray ye, Maide, it will be verie good To take the shade in this vnhaunted wood. This flouring bay, with branches large and great, Will shrowd ye safely from the parching heat. _Eu_. Good sir, my busines calls me hence in haste.