A floud of poyson horrible and blacke,
Full of great lumps of flesh and gobbets raw,
Which stunck so vildly that it forst him slacke
His grasping hold, and from her turne him backe:
Her vomit full of bookes and papers was,
With loathly frogs and toades, which eyes did lacke,
And creeping sought way in the weedy grass.
Her filthie parbreake all the place defiled has (I. i. 20).
Oftener picturesque, such vividness decorates even the traditional extravagance.