ever I loose my Love,
I graunt thy wish: thou art become a man,
I speake no more then well perform I can.
And, though thou walke in chaunged bodie now,
This penance shall be added to thy vowe:
Thyself a man shalt love a man in vaine,
And, loving, wish to be a maide againe.

_Eu_. _Appollo_, whether I love a man or not,
I thanke ye: now I will accept my lot;
And, sith my chaunge hath disappointed you,
Ye are at libertie to love anew.
[_Exit_.

_Ap_. If ever I love, sith now I am forsaken,
Where next I love it shall be better taken.
But, what so ere my fate in loving bee,
Yet thou maist vaunt that _Phoebus_ loved thee.
[_Exit Appollo_.

_Enter Ioculo, Frisco, and Mopso, at three severall doores_.

_Mop_. _Ioculo_, whither iettest thou?
Hast thou found thy maister?

_Io_. _Mopso_, wel met; hast thou found thy mistresse?

_Mop_. Not I, by Pan.

_Io_. Nor I, by Pot.

_Mop_. Pot? what god's that?

_Io_. The next god to Pan; and such a pot it may be as he shall haue
more servants then all the Pannes in a Tinker's shop.

_Mop_. _Frisco_, where hast thou beene frisking? hast thou found--

_Fris_. I haue found,--

_Io_. What hast thou found, _Frisco_?

_Fris_. A couple of crack-roapes.

_Io_. And I.

_Mop_. And I.

_Fris_. I meane you two.

_Io_. I you two.

_Mop_. And I you two.

_Fris_. Come, a trebble conjunction: all three, all three.

(_They all imbrace each other_)

_Mop_. But _Frisco_, hast not found the faire shepheardesse,
thy maister's mistresse?

_Fris_. Not I, by God,--_Priapus_, I meane.

_Io_. _Priapus_, quoth a? Whatt'in[118] a God might that bee?

_Fris_. A plaine God, with a good peg to hang a shepheardesse bottle
vpon.

_Io_. Thou, being a Forrester's Boy, shouldst sweare by the God of
the woods.

_Fris_. My Maister sweares by _Siluanus_; I must sweare by his poore
neighbour.

_Io_. And heer's a shepheard's swaine sweares by a Kitchen God, Pan.

_Mop_. Pan's the shepheardes God; but thou swearest by Pot: what God's
that?

_Io_. The God of good-fellowship. Well, you haue wicked maisters, that
teach such little Boyes to sweare so young.

_Fris_. Alas, good old great man, wil not your maister swear?

_Io_. I neuer heard him sweare six sound oaths in all my life.

_Mop_. May hap he cannot because hee's diseas'd.

_Fris_. Peace, _Mopso_. I will stand too't hee's