The Battle of the Bards
COMETAS. LACON. MORSON.
Goats, from a shepherd who stands here, from Lacon, keep away:
Sibyrtas owns him; and he stole my goatskin yesterday.
Hi! lambs! avoid yon fountain. Have ye not eyes to see
Cometas, him who filched a pipe but two days back from me?
Sibyrtas' bondsman own a pipe? whence gotst thou that, and how?
Tootling through straws with Corydon mayhap's beneath thee now?
'Twas Lycon's gift, your highness. But pray, Cometas, say,
What is that skin wherewith thou saidst that Lacon walked away?
That pine tree, goatherd, sings a rustling sweet
Beside the streams, and sweetly do you play
Your pipe. Behind Pan you'll take second prize.
If he take hornèd he-goat, you will take the she-,
If he take she-goat as his prize, to you falls he-,
And he-goat, 'til you milk him, has good meat.