What[946] bird so sings yet so dos wayle?
O 'tis the ravish'd[947] nightingale.
"Jug, jug, jug, jug, tereu," shee cryes;
And still her woes at midnight rise.
Brave prick song,[948] who is't now we heare? 35
None but the larke so shrill and cleare.
How at heavens gats[949] she claps her wings,
The morne not waking till shee sings!
Heark, heark, with what a pretty throat
Poore Robin Red-breast tunes his note! 40
Heark how the jolly cuckoes sing
"Cuckoe," to welcome in the spring;
"Cuckoe," to welcome in the spring.
_Syl._ Loe, Diogenes! I am sure thou canst not doe so much.
_Diog._ But there is never a thrush but can. 45
_Syl._ What hast thou taught Manes, thy man?
_Diog._ To be as unlike as may be thy sons.
_Manes._ He hath taught me to fast, lie hard, and run away.
_Syl._ How sayest thou, Perim, wilt thou bee with him?
_Perim._ I, so he will teach me first to runne away. 50
_Diog._ Thou needest not be taught, thy legges are so nimble.
_Syl._ How sayest thou, Milo, wilt thou be with him?
_Diog._ Nay, hold your peace; hee shall not.
_Syl._ Why?
_Diog._ There is not roome enough for him and me to tumble both in 55
one tub.
_Syl._ Well, Diogenes, I perceive my sonnes brooke not thy manners.
_Diog._ I thought no lesse, when they knew my vertues.
_Syl._ Farewell, Diogenes; thou neededst not have scraped rootes, 60
if thou wouldst have followed Alexander.
_Diog._ Nor thou have followed Alexander, if thou hadst scraped
rootes.[950] _Exeunt_ [_all except Diogenes._]