No More Learning

_ Why, then, begin, and let us hear
The soft, the sweet, the mellow note
That gently purls from either's oat.

2. The stakes are laid: let's now apply
Each one to make his melody.

_Lal. _ The equal umpire shall be I,
Who'll hear, and so judge righteously.

_Chor. _ Much time is spent in prate; begin,
And sooner play, the sooner win.

[_1 Neatherd plays_

2. That's sweetly touch'd, I must confess,
Thou art a man of worthiness;
But hark how I can now express
My love unto my neatherdess. [_He sings_

_Chor. _ A sugar'd note! and sound as sweet
As kine when they at milking meet.

1. Now for to win thy heifer fair,
I'll strike thee such a nimble air
That thou shalt say thyself 'tis rare,
And title me without compare.

_Chor.
_ Lay by a while your pipes, and rest,
Since both have here deserved best.

2. To get thy steerling, once again
I'll play thee such another strain
That thou shalt swear my pipe does reign
Over thine oat as sovereign. [_He sings_

_Chor. _ And Lalage shall tell by this,
Whose now the prize and wager is.

1. Give me the prize. 2. The day is mine.
1. Not so; my pipe has silenc'd thine:
And hadst thou wager'd twenty kine,
They were mine own. _Lal. _ In love combine.

_Chor. _ And lay ye down your pipes together,
As weary, not o'ercome by either.

_And lay_ ye _down your pipes_.