But there's a civil question used of late; Where lies my jointure, where your own estate? DAPHNIS. My flocks, my fields, my woods, my pastures take, With settlement as good as law can make. CHLORIS. Swear then you will not leave me on the common, But marry me, and make an honest woman. DAPHNIS. I swear by Pan, though he wears horns you'll say, Cudgelled and kicked, I'll not be forced away. CHLORIS. I bargain for a wedding-bed at least, A house, and handsome lodging for a guest. DAPHNIS. A house well furnished shall be thine to keep; And, for a flock-bed, I can sheer my sheep. CHLORIS. What tale shall I to my old father tell? DAPHNIS. 'Twill make him chuckle thou'rt bestowed so well. CHLORIS. But, after all, in troth I am to blame To be so loving, ere I know your name; A pleasant sounding name's a pretty thing. DAPHNIS. Faith, mine's a very pretty name to sing. They call me Daphnis; Lycidas my sire; Both sound as well as woman can desire. Nomæa bore me; farmers in degree; He a good husband, a good housewife she. CHLORIS. Your kindred is not much amiss, 'tis true; Yet I am somewhat better born than you. DAPHNIS. I know your father, and his family; And, without boasting, am as good as he, Menalcas; and no master goes before. CHLORIS. Hang both our pedigrees! not one word more; But if you love me, let me see your living, Your house, and home; for seeing is believing. DAPHNIS. See first yon cypress grove, a shade from noon. CHLORIS. Browze on, my goats; for I'll be with you soon. DAPHNIS. Feed well, my bulls, to whet your appetite, That each may take a lusty leap at night. CHLORIS. What do you mean, uncivil as you are, To touch my breasts, and leave my bosom bare? DAPHNIS. These pretty bubbies, first, I make my own. CHLORIS. Pull out your hand, I swear, or I shall swoon. DAPHNIS. Why does thy ebbing blood forsake thy face? CHLORIS. Throw me at least upon a cleaner place; My linen ruffled, and my waistcoat soiling-- What, do you think new clothes were made for spoiling? DAPHNIS. I'll lay my lambkins underneath thy back. CHLORIS. My head-gear's off; what filthy work you make! DAPHNIS. To Venus, first, I lay these offerings by. CHLORIS. Nay, first look round, that nobody be nigh: Methinks I hear a whispering in the grove. DAPHNIS. The cypress trees are telling tales of love. CHLORIS. You tear off all behind me, and before me; And I'm as naked as my mother bore me. DAPHNIS. I'll buy thee better clothes than these I tear, And lie so close I'll cover thee from air. CHLORIS.