Cris. Nay, truly, gentlemen, I'll challenge no man.--I can sing but
one staff of the ditty neither.

Gal. The better: Hermogenes himself will be entreated to sing the
other.

CRISPINUS sings.

If I freely may discover
What would please me in my lover,
I would have her fair and witty,
Savouring more of court than city;
A little proud, but full of pity:
Light and humorous in her toying,
Oft building hopes, and soon destroying,
Long, but sweet in the enjoying;
Neither too easy nor too hard:
All extremes I would have barr'd.

Gal. Believe me, sir, you sing most excellently.

Ovid. If there were a praise above excellence, the gentleman highly
deserves it.

Her. Sir, all this doth not yet make me envy you; for I know I sing
better than you.

Tib. Attend Hermogenes, now.

HERMOGENES, accompanied.