<SPEECH 1><ACT 4><SCENE 1><73%>
<IRIS>	<73%>
	Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas
	Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats, and peas;
	Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep,
	And flat meads thatch'd with stover, them to keep;
	Thy banks with pioned and twilled brims,
	Which spongy April at thy hest betrims,
	To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broom groves,
	Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves,
	Being lass-lorn; thy pole-clipt vineyard;
	And thy sea-marge, sterile and rocky-hard,
	Where thou thyself dost air: the queen o' the sky,
	Whose watery arch and messenger am I,
	Bids thee leave these; and with her sovereign grace,
	Here on this grass-plot, in this very place,
	To come and sport; her peacocks fly amain:
	Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain.

</IRIS>

<SPEECH 2><ACT 4><SCENE 1><74%>
<IRIS>	<74%>
	A contract of true love to celebrate,
	And some donation freely to estate
	On the bless'd lovers.
</IRIS>

<SPEECH 3><ACT 4><SCENE 1><75%>
<IRIS>	<75%>
	Of her society
	Be not afraid; I met her deity
	Cutting the clouds towards Paphos and her son
	Dove-drawn with her. Here thought they to have done
	Some wanton charm upon this man and maid,
	Whose vows are, that no bed-rite shall be paid
	Till Hymen's torch be lighted; but in vain:
	Mars's hot minion is return'd again;
	Her waspish-headed son has broke his arrows,
	Swears he will shoot no more, but play with sparrows,
	And be a boy right out.
</IRIS>

<SPEECH 4><ACT 4><SCENE 1><76%>
<IRIS>	<76%>
	You nymphs, call'd Naiades, of the windring brooks,
	With your sedg'd crowns, and ever-harmless looks,
	Leave your crisp channels, and on this green land
	Answer your summons: Juno does command.
	Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate
	A contract of true love: be not too late.

<STAGE DIR>
<Enter certain Nymphs.>
</STAGE DIR>
	You sun-burn'd sicklemen, of August weary,
	Come hither from the furrow, and be merry:
	Make holiday: your rye-straw hats put on,
	And these fresh nymphs encounter every one
	In country footing.
</IRIS>

