Classic Poem

ACT IV.

SCENA I.

Enter one of D IANA'S Nymphs, followed by Vulcan .

Vul. Why, nymph, what need ye run so fast? what though but black I be?
I have more pretty knacks to please than every eye doth see;
And though I go not so upright, and though I am a smith,
To make me gracious you may have some other thing therewith.

Enter B ACCHUS .

Bac. Yea, Vulcan, will ye so indeed? — Nay, turn, and tell him, trull,
He hath a mistress of his own to take his bellyfull.
Vul. Why sir, if Phaebe's dainty nymphs please lusty Vulcan's tooth,
Why may not Vulcan tread awry as well as Venus doth
Nym. Ye shall not taint your troth for me: you wot it very well,
All that be Dian's maids are vowed to halter apes in hell.
Bac. I'faith, i'faith, my gentle mops, but I do know a cast,
Lead apes who list, that we would help t'unhalter them as fast.
Nym. Fie, fie, your skill is wondrous great! had thought the God of Wine
Had tended but his tubs and grapes, and not ben half so fine.
Vul. Gramercy for that quirk, my girl.
Bac. That's one of dainty's frumps.
Nym. I pray, sir, take't with all amiss; our cunning comes by lumps.
Vul. Sh'ath capp'd his answer in the cue.
Nym. How says 'a, has she so?
As well as she that capp'd your head to keep you warm below.
Vul. Yea, then you will be curst I see.
Bac. Best let her even alone.
Nym. Yea, gentle gods, and find some other string to harp upon.
Bac. Some other string! agreed, i'faith, some other pretty thing;
'Twere shame fair maids should idle be: how say you, will ye sing?
Nym. Some rounds or merry roundelays, we sing no other songs;
Your melancholic notes not to our country mirth belongs.
Vul. Here comes a crew will help us trim.

M ERCURY with the YCLOPS .

Mer. Yea, now our task is done.
Bac. Then merry, Mercury; more than time this round were well begun.
They sing " Hey down, down, down, " &c. The song done, she windeth a horn in Vulcan'S ear, and runneth out. Manent Vulcan , M ERCURY , Cyclops.
Vul. A harlotry, I warrant her.
Bac. A peevish elvish shroe.
Mer. Have seen as far to come as near, for all her ranging so.
But, Bacchus, time well-spent I wot, our sacred father Jove,
With Phaebus and the God of War are met in Dian's grove.
Vul. Then we are here before them yet: but stay, the earth doth swell;
God Neptune, too (this hap is good), doth meet the Prince of Hell.

P LUTO ascendeth from below in his chair ; N EPTUNE entereth at another way .

Plu. What jars are these, that call the gods of heaven and hell below?
Nep. It is a work of wit and toil to rule a lusty shroe.

Enter J UPITER , S ATURN , A POLLO , M ARS , J UNO , P ALLAS , and D IANA .

Jup. Bring forth the man of Troy, that he may hear Whereof he is to be arraigned here.
Nep. Lo, where 'a comes, prepar'd to plead his case, Under conduct of lovely Venus' grace!

[ Enter V ENUS with P ARIS .]

Mer. I have not seen a more alluring boy.
Apol. So beauty hight the wreck of Priam's Troy.

The gods being set in D IANA'S bower , J UNO , P ALLAS , V ENUS , and P ARIS stand on sides before them .

Ven. Lo, sacred Jove, at Juno's proud complaint,
As erst I gave my pledge to Mercury,
I bring the man whom he did late attaint,
To answer his indictment orderly;
And crave this grace of this immortal senate,
That ye allow the man his advocate.
Pal. That may not be; the laws of heaven deny
A man to plead or answer by attorney.
Ven. Pallas, thy doom is all too peremptory.
Apol. Venus, that favour is denied him flatly:
He is a man, and therefore by our laws,
Himself, without his aid, must plead his cause.
Ven. Then 'bash not, shepherd, in so good a case;
And friends thou hast, as well as foes, in place.
Juno. Why, Mercury, why do ye not indict him?
Ven. Soft, gentle Juno, I pray you, do not bite him.
Juno. Nay, gods, I trow, you are like to have great silence,
Unless this parrot be commanded hence.
Jup. Venus, forbear, be still. — Speak, Mercury.
Ven. If Juno jangle, Venus will reply.
Mer. Paris, king Priam's son, thou art arraigned of partiality,
Of sentence partial and unjust; for that without indifferency,
Beyond desert or merit far, as thine accusers say,
From them, to Lady Venus here, thou gavest the prize away:
What is thine answer?

P ARIS oration to the Council of the Gods.

Sacred and just, thou great and dreadful Jove,
And you thrice-reverend powers, whom love nor hate
May wrest awry; if this, to me a man,
This fortune fatal be, that I must plead
For safe excusal of my guiltless thought,
The honour more makes my mishap the less,
That I a man must plead before the gods,
Gracious forbearers of the world's amiss,
For her, whose beauty how it hath enticed,
This heavenly senate may with me aver.
But sith nor that nor this may do me boot,
And for myself myself must speaker be,
A mortal man amidst this heavenly presence;
Let me not shape a long defence to them
That ben beholders of my guiltless thoughts.
Then for the deed, — that I may not deny,
Wherein consists the full of mine offence, —
I did upon command; if then I erred,
I did['t] no more than to a man belonged.
And if, in verdit of their forms divine,
My dazzled eye did swarve or surfeit more
On Venus' face than any face of theirs,
It was no partial fault, but fault of his,
Belike, whose eyesight not so perfect was
As might discern the brightness of the rest.
And if it were permitted unto men,
Ye gods, to parle with your secret thoughts,
There ben that sit upon that sacred seat,
That would with Paris err in Venus' praise.
But let me cease to speak of error here;
Sith what my hand, the organ of my heart,
Did give with good agreement of mine eye,
My tongue is vow'd with process to maintain.
Plu. A jolly shepherd, wise and eloquent.
Par. First, then, arraigned of partiality,
Paris replies, " Unguilty of the fact; "
His reason is, because he knew no more
Fair Venus' ceston than Dame Juno's mace,
Nor never saw wise Pallas' crystal shield.
Then as I looked, I loved and liked attonce,
And as it was referr'd from them to me,
To give the prize to her whose beauty best
My fancy did commend, so did I praise
And judge as might my dazzled eye discern.
Nep. A piece of art, that cunningly, perdy,
Refers the blame to weakness of his eye.
Par. Now, for I must add reason for my deed,
Why Venus rather pleased me of the three;
First, in the intrails of my mortal ears,
The question standing upon beauty's blaze,
The name of her that hight the Queen of Love,
Methought, in beauty should not be excell'd,
Had it been destined to majesty
(Yet will I not rob Venus of her grace),
Then stately Juno might have borne the ball.
Had it to wisdom been intituled,
My human wit had given it Pallas then.
But sith unto the fairest of the three
That power, that threw it for my farther ill,
Did dedicate this ball; and safest durst
My shepherd's skill adventure, as I thought,
To judge of form and beauty rather than
Of Juno's state or Pallas' worthiness, —
That learn'd to ken the fairest of the flock,
And praised beauty but by nature's aim; —
Behold, to Venus Paris gave this fruit,
A daysman chosen there by full consent,
And heavenly powers should not repent their deeds.
Where it is said, beyond desert of hers
I honour'd Venus with this golden prize,
Ye gods, alas, what can a mortal man
Discern betwixt the sacred gifts of heaven?
Or, if I may with reverence reason thus;
Suppose I gave, and judg'd corruptly then,
For hope of that that best did please my thought,
This apple not for beauty's praise alone;
I might offend, sith I was guerdoned,
And tempted more than ever creature was
With wealth, with beauty, and with chivalry,
And so preferr'd beauty before them all,
The thing that hath enchanted heaven itself.
And for the one, contentment is my wealth;
A shell of salt will serve a shepherd swain,
A slender banquet in a homely scrip,
And water running from the silver spring.
For arms, they dread no foes that sit so low;
A thorn can keep the wind from off my back,
A sheep-cote thatch'd a shepherd's palace hight.
Of tragic Muses shepherds con no skill;
Enough is them, if Cupid ben displeased,
To sing his praise on slender oaten pipe.
And thus, thrice-reverend, have I told my tale,
And crave the torment of my guiltless soul
To be measured by my faultless thought.
If warlike Pallas or the Queen of Heaven
Sue to reverse my sentence by appeal,
Be it as please your majesties divine;
The wrong, the hurt, not mine, if any be,
But hers whose beauty claim'd the prize of me.

P ARIS having ended , J UPITER speaketh .

Jup. Venus, withdraw your shepherd for a space,
Till he again be call'd for into place.
Juno, what will ye after this reply,
But doom with sentence of indifferency?
And if you will but justice in the cause,
The man must quited be by heaven's laws.
Juno. Yea, gentle Jove, when Juno's suits are moved,
Then heaven may see how well she is beloved.
Apol. But, madam, fits it majesty divine
In any sort from justice to decline?
Pal. Whether the man be guilty, yea or no,
That doth not hinder our appeal, I trow.
Juno. Phaebus, I wot, amid this heavenly crew,
There be that have to say as well as you.
Apol. And, Juno, I with them, and they with me,
In law and right must needfully agree.
Pal. I grant ye may agree, but be content
To doubt upon regard of your agreement.
Plu. And if ye mark'd, the man in his defence
Said thereof as 'a might with reverence.
Vul. And did ye very well, I promise ye.
Juno. No doubt, sir, you could note it cunningly.
Sat. Well, Juno, if ye will appeal, ye may,
But first despatch the shepherd hence away.
Mars. Then Vulcan's dame is like to have the wrong.
Juno. And that in passion doth to Mars belong.
Jup. Call Venus and the shepherd in again.
Bac. And rid the man that he may know his pain.
Apol. His pain, his pain, his never-dying pain,
A cause to make a many more complain.

M ERCURY bringeth in V ENUS and P ARIS

Jup. Shepherd, thou hast ben heard with equity and law,
And for thy stars do thee to other calling draw,
We here dismiss thee hence, by order of our senate:
Go take thy way to Troy, and there abide thy fate.
Ven. Sweet shepherd, with such luck in love, while thou dost live,
As may the Queen of Love to any lover give.
Par. My luck is loss, howe'er my love do speed:
I fear me Paris shall but rue his deed.
Apol. From Ida woods now wends the shepherd's boy,
That in his bosom carries fire to Troy.
Jup. Venus, these ladies do appeal, you see,
And that they may appeal the gods agree:
It resteth, then, that you be well content
To stand in this unto our final judgment;
And if King Priam's son did well in this,
The law of heaven will not lead amiss.
Ven. But, sacred Jupiter, might thy daughter choose,
She might with reason this appeal refuse:
Yet, if they be unmoved in their shames,
Be it a stain and blemish to their names;
A deed, too, far unworthy of the place,
Unworthy Pallas' lance or Juno's mace;
And if to beauty it bequeathed be,
I doubt not but it will return to me.
Pal. Venus, there is no more ado than so,
It resteth where the gods do it bestow.
Nep. But, ladies, under favour of your rage,
Howe'er it be, you play upon the vantage.
Jup. Then, dames, that we more freely may debate,
And hear th' indifferent sentence of this senate,
Withdraw you from this presence for a space,
Till we have throughly question'd of the case:
Dian shall be your guide; nor shall you need
Yourselves t' inquire how things do here succeed;
We will, as we resolve, give you to know,
By general doom how everything doth go.
Dia. Thy will, my wish. — Fair ladies, will ye wend?
Juno. Beshrew her whom his sentence doth offend.
Ven. Now, Jove, be just; and, gods, you that be Venus' friends,
If you have ever done her wrong, then may you make amends.
Jup. Venus is fair, Pallas and Juno too.
Vul. But tell me now without some more ado,
Who is the fairest she, and do not flatter.
Plu. Vulcan, upon comparison hangs all the matter:
That done, the quarrel and the strife were ended.
Mars. Because 'tis known, the quarrel is pretended.
Vul. Mars, you have reason for your speech, perdy;
My dame, I trow, is fairest in your eye.
Mars. Or, Vulcan, I should do her double wrong.
Sat. About a toy we tarry here so long.
Give it by voices, voices give the odds;
A trifle so to trouble all the gods!
Nep. Believe me, Saturn, be it so for me.
Bac. For me.
Plu. For me.
Mars. For me, if Jove agree.
Mer. And, gentle gods, I am indifferent;
But then I know who's likely to be shent
Apol. Thrice-reverend gods, and thou, immortal Jove,
If Phaebus may, as him doth much behove,
Be licensed, according to our laws,
To speak uprightly in this doubted cause
(Sith women's wits work men's unceasing woes),
To make them friends, that now bin friendless foes,
And peace to keep with them, with us, and all,
That make their title to this golden ball
(Nor think, ye gods, my speech doth derogate
From sacred power of this immortal senate);
Refer this sentence where it doth belong:
In this, say I, fair Phaebe hath the wrong;
Not that I mean her beauty bears the prize,
But that the holy law of heaven denies
One god to meddle in another's power
And this befel so near Diana's bower,
As for th' appeasing this unpleasant grudge,
In my conceit, she hight the fittest judge.
If Jove control not Pluto's hell with charms.
If Mars have sovereign power to manage arms,
If Bacchus bear no rule in Neptune['s] sea,
Nor Vulcan's fire doth Saturn's scythe obey,
Suppress not, then, 'gainst law and equity,
Diana's power in her own territory,
Whose regiment, amid her sacred bowers,
As proper hight as any rule of yours.
Well may we so wipe all the speech away,
That Pallas, Juno, Venus, hath to say,
And answer that, by justice of our laws
We were not suffer'd to conclude the cause.
And this to me most egal doom appears,
A woman to be judge among her pheeres
Mer. Apollo hath found out the only mean
To rid the blame from us and trouble clean.
Vul. We are beholding to his sacred wit.
Jup. I can commend and well allow of it;
And so derive the matter from us all,
That Dian have the giving of the ball.
Vul. So Jove may clearly excuse him in the case,
Where Juno else would chide and brawl apace.
Mer. And now it were some cunning to divine
To whom Diana will this prize resign.
Vul. Sufficeth me, it shall be none of mine.
Bac. Vulcan, though thou be black, thou'rt nothing fine.
Vul. Go bathe thee, Bacchus, in a tub of wine;
The ball's as likely to be mine as thine.