1.
Proteus ‖: Come, :‖ noble nymphs, and do not hide
The joys for which you so provide.
Saron If not to mingle with the men,
What do you here? Go home again.
Portunus Your dressings do confess,
By what we see, so curious parts
Of Pallas’ and Arachne’s arts,
That you could mean no less.
2.
Proteus ‖: Why :‖ do you wear the silk-worm’s toils,
Or glory in the shellfish spoils,
Or strive to show the grains of ore
That you have gathered on the shore,
Whereof to make a stock
To graft the greener emerald on,
Or any better-watered stone,
Saron Or ruby of the rock?
3.
Proteus ‖: Why :‖ do you smell of ambergris,
Of which was formèd Neptune’s niece,
The queen of love, unless you can,
Like sea-born Venus, love a man?
Saron Try, put yourselves unto’t.
Chorus Your looks, your smiles, and thoughts that meet,
Ambrosian hands, and silver feet,
Do promise you will do’t.