Claia.  Florimel I thus coniure thee,
      Since their gifts cannot alure thee;
      By stampt Garlick, that doth stink
      Worse then common Sewer, or Sink,
      By Henbane, Dogsbane, Woolfsbane, sweet
      As any Clownes or Carriers feet,
      By stinging Nettles, pricking Teasels
      Raysing blisters like the measels,
      By the rough Burbreeding docks,
      Rancker then the oldest Fox, 280
      By filthy Hemblock, poysning more
      Then any vlcer or old sore,
      By the Cockle in the corne,
      That smels farre worse then doth burnt horne,
      By Hempe in water that hath layne,
      By whose stench the Fish are slayne,
      By Toadflax which your Nose may tast,
      If you haue a minde to cast,
      May all filthy stinking Weeds
      That e’r bore leafe, or e’r had seeds, 290
      Florimel be giuen to thee,
      If thou’lt not sing as well as wee.

    At which the Nimphs to open laughter fell,
    Amongst the rest the beauteous Florimel,
    (Pleasd with the spell from Claia that came,
    A mirthfull Gerle and giuen to sport and game)
    As gamesome growes as any of them all,
    And to this ditty instantly doth fall.

        Florimel. How in my thoughts should I contriue
      The Image I am framing, 300
      Which is so farre superlatiue,
      As tis beyond all naming;
      I would Ioue_ of my counsell make,
      And haue his judgement in it,
      But that I doubt he would mistake
      How rightly to begin it,
      It must be builded in the Ayre,
      And tis my thoughts must doo it,
      And onely they must be the stayre
      From earth to mount me to it, 310
      For of my Sex I frame my Lay,
      Each houre, our selues forsaking,
      How should I then finde out the way
      To this my vndertaking,
      When our weake Fancies working still,
      Yet changing every minnit,
      Will shew that it requires some skill,
      Such difficulty’s in it. 
      We would things, yet we know not what,
      And let our will be granted, 320
      Yet instantly we finde in that
      Something vnthought of wanted: 
      Our ioyes and hopes such shadowes are,
      As with our motions varry,
      Which when we oft haue fetcht from farre,
      With us they neuer tarry: 
      Some worldly crosse doth still attend,
      What long we haue in spinning,
      And e’r we fully get the end
      We lose of our beginning. 330
      Our pollicies so peevish are,
      That with themselues they wrangle,
      And many times