When in a second Course againe,
    They forward came with might and mayne,
    Yet which had better of the twaine,
      The Seconds could not iudge yet; 620
    Their shields were into pieces cleft,
    Their helmets from their heads were reft,
    And to defend them nothing left,
      These Champions would not budge yet.

    Away from them their Staues they threw,
    Their cruell Swords they quickly drew,
    And freshly they the fight renew;
      They euery stroke redoubled: 
    Which made Proserpina take heed,
    And make to them the greater speed, 630
    For fear lest they too much should bleed,
      Which wondrously her troubled.

    When to th’ infernall Stix she goes,
    She takes the Fogs from thence that rose,
    And in a Bagge doth them enclose;
      When well she had them blended: 
    She hyes her then to Lethe spring,
    A Bottell and thereof doth bring,
    Wherewith she meant to worke the thing,
      Which onely she intended. 640

    Now Proserpine with Mab is gone
    Vnto the place where Oberon
    And proud Pigwiggen, one to one,
      Both to be slaine were likely: 
    And there themselues they closely hide,
    Because they would not be espide;
    For Proserpine meant to decide
      The matter very quickly.

    And suddainly vntyes the Poke,
    Which out of it sent such a smoke, 650
    As ready was them all to choke,
      So greeuous was the pother;
    So that the Knights each other lost,
    And stood as still as any post,
    Tom Thum, nor Tomalin could boast
      Themselues of any other.

    But when the mist gan somewhat cease,
    Proserpina commanded peace: 
    And that a while they should release,
      Each other of their perill:  660
    Which here (quoth she) I doe proclaime
    To all in dreadfull Plutos name,
    That as yee will eschewe his blame,
      You let me heare the quarrell,

    But here your selues you must engage,
    Somewhat to coole your spleenish rage: 
    Your greeuous thirst and to asswage,
      That first you drinke this liquor: 
    Which shall your vnderstanding cleare,
    As plainely shall to you appeare; 670
    Those things from me that you shall heare,
      Conceiuing much the quicker.

    This Lethe water you must knowe,
    The memory destroyeth so,
    That of our weale, or of our woe,
      It all remembrance blotted;
    Of it nor can you euer thinke: 
    For they no sooner tooke this drinke,
    But nought into their braines could sinke,
      Of what had them besotted. 680