When Priam's son in midst of Ida plain
Gave one the price, and other two the foile,
If she for whom I still abide in pain
Had lived then within the Troyan soil,
No doubt but hers had been the golden ball,
Helen had scaped rape, and Troy his fall.
Or if my dame had then enjoyed life
When Bacchus sought for Ariadne's love,
No doubt but she had only been his wife,
And flown from hence to sit with gods above:
For she exceeds his choice of Crete so far
As Phoebus doth excel a twinkling star.
But from the first all fates have thus assigned,
That she should live in these our latter days,
I think to bear a sway within my mind
And feed my thoughts with friendly sweet delays;
If so it be, let me attend my chance,
And fortune pipe when I begin to dance.