PARIS

Oh none, while , Tell me what shall Thou hast a sort of Dare say no Nymph in Again, beside thy In telling them thou Then prithee sweet, afford thing, Some toy that from thy . Well gentle Nymph although How do me wrong, That can pipe a song, Me lift this once, This idle ta ke . Nay what thou wilt: but sith my cunning not compares with thine, Begin some Toy, that I can play upon this pipe of mine. No better thing, begin it then, Oenone thou shalt see Our music, figure of the love that grows betwixt thee and me. My vow is made and witnessed, the Poplar will not start, Nor shall the nymph Oenones love from forth my breathing heart. I will go b king the one thy way, my flock are here behind, And I will have a love S fee: they say, unkissed, unkind. The nymph is gone, and I all solitary, Must weened to tend my charge, oppressed with melancholy. This day (or else me fails my shepherds skill) Will tide me passing good, or passing ill. Most heavenly dams, was never man as I Poor Shepherd swain, so happy and unhappy: The least of these delights, that you devise. Able to wrape and dazzle human eyes. But since my silence may not pardoned be, And I appoint which is the fairest she, Pardon, most sacred dams, sith one not all, By Paris doom must have this golden ball. Thy beauty, stately Jun , dame divine, That like to Phœbus golden beams does shine, Approves it self to be most excellent, But that fair face that doth me most content, Sith fair, faired mes, is neither she nor she, But she whom I shall fairest deem to be. That face is hers that hight the Queen of Love, Whose sweetness doth both gods and creator's move. And if the fairest face deserve the ball, Fair Venus, Ladies, bears it from ye all. Oh madam, if your self would dame the handling of the bow, Albeit it be a task, your self more skill, more justice know. Lady, a little once. fair queen of love I loved not all att ce. But tell me, gracious goddess, for a la e and fall e offence, Hath Venus or er son the power, at pleasure to dispense. Is Venus and her son so full of justice and feuerytye. And hath he reason to maintain why Colin died for love. Then be the name of oue adored, his bow is f ll of might. His wounds are all but for desert, his laws are all but right: well for this once me list apply my speeches to thy sense, And The stilis shall feel the pain for loves supposed offence. Welladay Welladay: Poor Colin thou art going to the ground. The love whom Thestis hath slain, Hard heart, fair face fraught with disdain: Disdain in love a deadly wound. Wound her sweet love so deep again, That she may feel the worser eng pain Of this unhappy shepherd's swain, And die for love as Colin died. is Colin i'ld finis Cam n . A poor unhappy Thestlis, unpitied is thy pain. Such dumps, sweet Lady, as been these are deadly dumps to prove. First then arraign'de of parciallitie. Paris replies unguilty of the fact His reason is, because he knew no more Fair Venus Ceston, then dame Juno's mace, Nor never saw wise Pallas crystal shield. Then as I looked I loved and liked atonce, And as it was referred 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 decern. Now (for I must add reason for my deed) Why Venus rather pleased me of the three: F st, in the intrayles of my mortal ears, The question standing upon beauty's blaze, The name of her that height the queen of love, My thought in beauty should not be excelled. Had it be destyned to majesty, (Yet will I not rob Venus of her grace,) Then stately Juno might have born the ball. Had it to wisdom bine entitled, My human wit had given it Pallas then. But sith unto the fairest of the three, That power, that threw it for my father ill, Did dedicate this ball: and safest durst My shepherds skill adventure, as I thought, To judge of form and beauty, rather then Of Juno's state, or Pallas worthiness, That learned to ken the fairest of the flock, And praised beauty but by nature's aim: Behold to Venus Paris gave this fruit, A dayesman chosen there by full consent, And heavenly powers should not rep nt their deeds. Where it is said, beyond desert of hers, I honoured Venus with this golden prize: (Ye gods) alas what can a mortal man Decern, betwixt the sacred gifts of heaven. Or, if I may with reverence reason thus: Suppose I gave, and judged 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 pardoned, And tempted, more then ever creature was, With wealth, with beauty and with chivalry: And so preferred beauty before them all, The thing that hath enchanted heau n it self. And for the one, contentment is my wealth: A shell of salt will serve a sheep e de swain, A slender banquet in a homely skrip, And water running from the silver spring. For arms, they dread no foes that fit so low, A thorn can keep the wind from off my back, A sheepcoat thatched, a shepherds palace high Of tragic Muses shepherds on no skill, Enough is them, if Cupid been 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 majesty's divine, The wrong, the hurt not mine, if any be, But hers whose beauty claimed the prize of me. My luck is lose how ere my love do speed, I fear me Paris shall but rue his deed. Fair and fair and twice so fair, As fair as any may be: Thy love is fair for thee alone, And for no other Lady. Fair and fair, &c. Thy love is fair &c. They that do change, &c. How Saturn did divide his kingdom though, To Jove, to Neptune, and to Dis below. How mighty me made , Against the gods and How Phorcias imp , That tangled Neptune in he gold n hair, Became a Gorgo for her lewd misdeed, A pretty fable Paris for to . A piece of cunnig trust me , That wealth and beauty altar men to Stone . How Salmacis resembling idleness, Turns men to women all through wantonness. How Pluto reached Queen daughter thence And what did follow of that love offence. Of turned into the tree That shev es a my or of virginity. How fair Narcissus too king on his shade, Reproves disdain, and . How cunning Philo la S , What force in love, what wit . What pains unhappy souls abide in , They say because on earth they lived not well. Ixio S wheel, proud TO ntals paining woe. Prometheus torment, and a many . How Danaus daughter lie their endless . What toil the toil of does ask. All these are old and known I know, yet if thou wilt have any, Choose some of these, for trust me else hath not many. The angry heavens for this fatal jar, Name me the instrument of dire and deadly war.