her Traine:
Which for our _Tita_ we will make
Of the cast slough of a Snake, 80
Which quiuering as the winde doth blow,
The Sunne shall it like Tinsell shew.

_Cloris._ And being led to meet her mate,
To make sure that she want no state,
Moones from the Peacockes tayle wee'll shred,
With feathers from the Pheasants head:
Mix'd with the plume of (so high price,)
The precious bird of Paradice.
Which to make vp, our Nimphes shall ply
Into a curious Canopy. 90
Borne o're her head (by our enquiry)
By Elfes, the fittest of the Faery.

_Mertilla._ But all this while we haue forgot
Her Buskins, neighbours, haue we not?

_Claia._ We had, for those I'le fit her now,
They shall be of the Lady-Cow:
The dainty shell vpon her backe
Of Crimson strew'd with spots of blacke;
Which as she holds a stately pace,
Her Leg will wonderfully grace. 100

_Cloris._ But then for musicke of the best,
This must be thought on for the Feast.

_Mertilla._ The Nightingale of birds most choyce,
To doe her best shall straine her voyce;
And to this bird to make a Set,
The Mauis, Merle, and Robinet;
The Larke, the Lennet, and the Thrush,
That make a Quier of euery Bush.
But for still musicke, we will keepe
The Wren, and Titmouse, which to sleepe 110
Shall sing the Bride, when shee's alone
The rest into their chambers gone.
And like those vpon Ropes that walke
On Gossimer, from staulke to staulke,
The tripping Fayry tricks shall play
The euening of the wedding day.

_Claia._ But for the Bride-bed, what were fit,
That hath not beene talk'd of yet.

_Cloris._ Of leaues of Roses white and red,
Shall be the Couering of her bed: 120
The Curtaines, Valence, Tester, all,
Shall be the flower Imperiall,
And for the Fringe, it all along
With azure Harebels shall be hung:
Of Lillies shall the Pillowes be,
With downe stuft of the Butterflee.

_Mertilla._ Thus farre we handsomely haue gone,
Now for our Prothalamion
Or Marriage song of all the rest,
A thing that much must grace our feast. 130
Let vs practise then to sing it,
Ere w