IV. 1. 125 Juno and Ceres whisper seriously;
There’s something else to do: hush, and be mute,
Or else our spell is marr’d.
Iris. You nymphs, call’d Naiads, of the [windring] brooks,
With your [sedged] crowns and ever-harmless looks,
130 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.