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Doron.
Come Dorilus, let us be brave,
In lofty numbers let us rave,
With Rymes I will inrich thee.

Dorilus.
Content say I, then bid the base,
Our wits shall runne the Wildgoose chase,
Spurre up, or I will swich thee.

Doron.
The Sunne out of the East doth peepe,
And now the day begins to creepe,
Upon the world at leasure.

Dorilus.
The Ayre enamor'd of the Greaves,
The West winde stroaks the velvit leaves
And kisses them at pleasure.

Doron.
The Spinners webs twixt spray and spray,
The top of every bush make gay,
By filmy coards there dangling.

Dorilus.
For now the last dayes evening dew
Even to the full it selfe doth shew,
Each bough with Pearle bespangling.

Doron.
O Boy how thy abundant vaine
Even like a Flood breaks from thy braine,
Nor can thy Muse be gaged.

Dorilus.
Why nature forth did never bring
A man that like to me can sing,
If once I be enraged.

Doron.
Why Dorilus I in my skill
Can make the swiftest Streame stand still,
Nay beare back to his springing.

Dorilus.
And I into a Trance most deepe
Can cast the Birds that they shall sleepe
When fain'st they would be singing.

Doron.
Why Dorilus thou mak'st me mad,
And now my wits begin to gad,
But sure I know not whither.

Dorilus.
O Doron let me hug thee then,
There never was two madder men,
Then let us on together.

Doron.
Hermes the winged Horse bestrid,
And thorow thick and thin he rid,
And floundred throw the Fountaine.

Dorilus.
He spurd the Tit untill he bled,
So that at last he ran his head
Against the forked Mountaine,

Doron.
How sayst thou, but pyde Iris got,
Into great Junos Chariot,
I spake with one that saw her.

Dorilus.
And there the pert and sawcy Elfe
Behav'd her as twere Juno's selfe,
And made the Peacoks draw her.

Doron.
Ile borrow Phœbus fiery Jades,
With which about the world he trades,
And put them in my Plow.

Dorilus.
O thou most perfect frantique man,
Yet let thy rage be what it can,
Ile be as mad as thou.

Doron.
Ile to great Jove, hap good, hap ill,
Though he with Thunder threat to kill,
And beg of him a boone.

Dorilus.
To swerve up one of Cynthias beames,
And there to bath thee in the streames,
Discoverd in the Moone.

Doron.
Come frolick Youth and follow me,
My frantique boy, and Ile show thee
The Countrey of the Fayries.

Dorilus.
The fleshy Mandrake where't doth grow
In noonshade of the Mistletow,
And where the Phœnix Aryes.

Doron.
Nay more, the Swallowes winter bed,
The Caverns where the Winds are bred,
Since thus thou talkst of showing.

Dorilus.
And to those Indraughts Ile thee bring,
That wondrous and eternall spring
Whence th'Ocean hath its flowing.

Doron.
We'll downe to the darke house of sleepe,
Where snoring Morpheus doth keepe,
And wake the drowsy Groome.

Dorilus.
Downe shall the Dores and Windowes goe,
The Stooles upon the Floare we'll throw,
And roare about the Roome.