MERCURY

Here is a Nymph that sadly sits, and she belike Can tell some news, Pyracmon, of the I lly swain we seek. Dare wage my wings the lass does love, she looks so bleak & thin, And 'tis for anger or for grief: but I will talk begin. She sings, nires, be hushed awhile. Good-day fair maid, weary belike with following of your game, I wish thee cunning at thy will, to spare or S rike the same. Your hand perhaps did swerve awarie. Oen. or else it was my heart. Then sure a plied his fotemanship. You should have given a deeper wou ̄ worser. high tell me sweet, are you in love. Ye mean because a do sye wrong. Why mean you love, or him you loved? Is love to blame? Meam e you indeed the queen of love. Why was thy love so lovely then? is he a she p heard than ̄ . enough, this is the man. Wh re woons he than ̄ ? What Poplar mean you? Sirs tarry you. nay not unless you will. Stay Nymph, and hark what I say of him thou blamest so, And credit me, I have a sad discourse to tell thee ere I go. Know then, my pretty mop , that I hight Mercury, The messenge of heaven, and hither fly To cease upon the man whon thou dost love, To summon him before my father Io e, To answer matter of great consequence, And Jove himself will not be long from henc . The same is he, that jolly shepherds swain. No marvel wench, although we cannot find him, When all to late the queen of heaven does mind him. But if thou wilt have physic for thy over, Mind him who list, remember thou him no more: And find some other game, and get thee gone. For here will lusty suitors come anon, To hot and ustie for thy dying vain, Such as were monte to make their suits in vain. Fair lady Venus, let me pardoned be That have of long been well-beloved of thee, If as my office bid self first brings To my swee e Ma am these unwelcome tidings. At Juno's suit, Pallas assisting her, Sith both did join n suit to Jupiter, Actium is entered in the court of heaven, And me, the swyf est of the Planets seven, With warrant they have thence dispatched away, To apprehend and find the man, they say, That gave from them that selfsame ball of gold, Which I presume I do in place beeholde, Which man, unless my marks be taken wide, Is he that sytts so near thy gracious yde. This being so, it rests e go from hence. Before the gods to answer his offence. This little fruit, if Mercury can spell, Will send I fear a world of soul to hell. Venus, gyve me your pledge Nay this shall serve: your word to me as sure as is your oath, At Diana's bower and Lady, if my wit or pollycie May profit him for Venus sake, let him make bold with Mercury. Yea now our task is done. 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 Phœbus and the God of war e are met in Dians grove. I have not seen a more alluring boy. Paris, king Priam's son, thou art arraigned of parciallitie, 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? Sacred and joust, 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 excusall 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 enticet, This heavenly senate may with me aver. But sith nor that, nor this may do me boot, And for my self, my self must speaker be, A mortal man, amid this heavenly presence Let me not shape a long defence, to them, That been 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 erde, I did no more then to a man belonged. And if in verdict of their forms divine, My dazzled eye did swerve or surfeit more On nus face, then any face of their : It was no partial fault, but fault of his Belike, whose eysight not so perfect was, As might decern the brightness of toe rest. And if it were permitted unto men (You gods) to parley with your secret thoughts, There been that fit 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 void with process to mainta ne. And gentle gods, I am indifferent: But then I know whose likely to be shent. Apollo hath found out the only mean, To rid the blame from us and trouble clean. And now, it were some cunning to divine, To whom Diana will this prize resign. You should have eyed him better the ̄ .