Pleasant dialogues and dramma's selected out of Lucian, Erasmus, Textor, Ovid, &c. ... By Tho. Heywood |
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Ivpiter, Mercvry, Ivno, Pallas, Venvs, and Paris. |
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 | Pleasant dialogues and dramma's |  |
140
Ivpiter, Mercvry, Ivno, Pallas, Venvs, and Paris.
The Argument of the Dialogue, entituled Deorum Iudicium.
The Troian Paris, being yet a Swaine,Is made the Iudge of Ates golden Ball.
Three goddesses contend, but two in vaine;
Venus (faire Beauties Queene) prevailes 'bove all.
With Youth, her fraile gifts are more potent charmes,
Than Iuno's state, than Pallas Arts or Armes.
The Dialogve.
Iupit.Take (Mercury) this Apple, and make speed
To Phrygia, there where Priams son doth feed
His herds of Cattell; thou art sure to find him
In Ida mount, the part that's now assign'd him
Call'd Gargarus: and thus much to him say
From Iupiter, That we command him stay
All other his affaires; for being yong,
And beautifull withall, of a quicke tongue,
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Him we appoint this doubtfull cause to end,
And he alone shall the prime Vmpier bee,
To tell which goddesse is the fair'st of three:
She that's crownd Victresse by the Trojan Boy,
For meed this golden Apple shall enioy.
This is the houre that calls you to be gon:
I am no competent judge to take upon
Me this arbitrement, since I approve,
They all have equall portion in my love;
And, were it possible, I would renowne
Each severall Beauty with a Victors Crowne,
As bee'ng to me like deare. Whoso shall give
The Palme to one, he cannot chuse but live
In envy of the other: therefore I
Allow me no fit Iudge. Go then, apply
Your selves in haste unto that Phrygian Swaine,
Who is descended of a regall straine,
And Cousin to my Ganimed; a Youth
Simple, (as mountain-bred) who nought save truth
Knowes, and there's none that hath beheld his face,
But would esteeme him worthy this great grace.
Venus.
For my part, Iupiter, what would I care,
If in this censure, Which should be most faire,
Thou wouldst us instantly to Minos send,
What can he finde in me to reprehend?
However I am confident, yet these
'Tis likewise fitting the yong man should please.
Iuno.
Neither have we, ô Venus, cause to feare,
Should Mars your Sweet-heart be made Vmpier here.
But to this Youth selected we assent,
And (be he what he will) we rest content.
Iup.
Is this your minde, my lovely Pallas? Tush,
I now perceive you turne your eies and blush:
Such bashfulnesse becomes chaste Virgins still;
I take thy silence for consent, thy will
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And from yong Paris thy precedence know;
But take this charge from me, In those that speed not,
Malice or spleen against the Iudge it breed not,
Nor the yong man with any mischiefes threat,
Since all of you alike cannot be great.
Merc.
Proceed we then: this path directly leades
Vnto those Phrygian pastures and faire Meads;
I'le shew the way, you follow me apace,
Be all of courage, I both know the place,
And Paris too, a beautifull yong man,
And in these amorous contentions can
As much as any; fit to undergo
This charge, and will not iudge amisse, I know.
Venus.
All this is as it should be: I delight
In one not partiall, that will censure right.
But is he yet a Bachelor, canst tell,
Or doth some Wife or Damsell with him dwell?
Merc.
I cannot say hee's altogether cleare
And free from women.
Ven.
How's that? let me heare.
Merc.
There lives with him a smug Idæan Lasse,
Sufficiently faire, and one may passe
Amongst the rest, but rusticall, as bred
In the same mountaine where his herd is fed:
Oft in familiar conference I have seen them,
But tooke no note of any love between them.
Why aske you Venus?
Ven.
For no ill intent;
It came into my thoughts by accident.
Miner.
Ill dost thou, Mercury, and us much wrong,
To hold us in sad conference so long.
Merc.
Not so Minerva, lovely Venus spake
Nothing 'gainst you; only she chanc'd to make
A question, if this Paris had a Bride.
Minerv.
If nothing else, why didst thou closely hide
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Merc.
She spake the word by chance;
To keep't from you was but my ignorance.
Miner.
Hath he none then?
Merc
It seemes not.
Miner.
Doth he incline
To militarie Arts and discipline?
Is he of warlike spirit, from a straine
Ambitious after glory? or meere Swaine?
Merc.
In that you plunge me; but as I can guesse,
Being yong and strong, what can he promise lesse,
Than prove a hopefull souldier?
Ven.
Well, you see
I 'plaine me not, nor is it griefe to mee,
That you two spake in privat; these complaints
Fit jealous heads, but none of Uenus Saints.
Merc.
Take nothing ill, faire Venus, I beseech,
For truly to resolve you, her late speech
To yours had reference: Then (as you are wise)
Presume this, nought can bate you of your prise;
The selfe same answer that to you I made,
I gave to her. I'th mean time whil'st we trade
In this discourse, the greatest part assign'd us
Of this our way we haue past, and left behind us
The stars already; Phrygia is not far,
For in our view Ida and Gargarus ar';
And if I be not much deceiv'd, I spy
Paris the Iudge that must your beauties try.
Iuno.
But I see no such man.
Merc.
Close by me stand,
And cast your eye that way, toward the left hand,
Not to the mountain top, but to the side,
Where you may spy a caves mouth gaping wide,
By which a faire herd's grasing.
Iuno.
No such sight myne eies are guilty of.
Merc.
Looke here forth-right,
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Iust as my finger points, and in your sight
Will fall a goodly herd of Beeves and Cowes;
Not where the rocke unto the steepest growes,
But towards the middle part, somewhat descending,
Behinde them comes a Swaine, it seemes, intending
To keepe them close together, lest they stray,
Downe from the rocks he makes his speediest way;
Holding withall a sharpe goad in his hand.
Iuno.
Now Hermes I begin to understand:
If that be he, I spy him.
Merc.
'Tis confest:
But being now so neere the earth, 'tis best
(If so you thinke it fitting) we descend,
And towards him a moderat pace extend;
Lest sousing on the sudden from an hye,
The frighted Swaine may take his heeles and fly.
Iuno.
Hermes speakes well: Let's all at once alight;
You (Venus) in this way have best insight,
As she therein best skild, who (as Fame tells)
Vpon this mountaine oft in caves and cells,
To satiate your lust, and pay Loves debt,
In Vulcans absence with Anchises met.
Venus.
Iuno, your scoffes and taunts are ill apply'de,
Nor do they move me.
Merc.
Come, I'le be your Guide,
These well knowne paths I did of custome tread,
When Iupiter first lov'd his Ganimed;
They were then frequent with me, as being sent
Still to and fro, to accomplish his intent:
When hither like an Egle he descended,
I present was, (for alwaies I attended,
And in his rape assisted) at what time
He snatcht him hence, unto yon place sublime.
The Lad by chance close by his Fold was fitting,
Voice to the pipe, the pipe to his voice fitting.
Iove soaring high, downe on the sudden shifteth,
Behinde him falls, and at an instant lifteth
Him gently from the earth, his crooked bill
Fastning vpon the wreath the Lad kept still
About his browes, griping and holding fast
Yet (without harme) th' affrighted Youth, who'agast,
Turneth his head the clean contrary way,
Not knowing what to thinke, much lesse to say:
His oten pipe he then let fall through feare.
These well knowne paths I did of custome tread,
When Iupiter first lov'd his Ganimed;
They were then frequent with me, as being sent
Still to and fro, to accomplish his intent:
When hither like an Egle he descended,
I present was, (for alwaies I attended,
And in his rape assisted) at what time
He snatcht him hence, unto yon place sublime.
The Lad by chance close by his Fold was fitting,
Voice to the pipe, the pipe to his voice fitting.
Iove soaring high, downe on the sudden shifteth,
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Him gently from the earth, his crooked bill
Fastning vpon the wreath the Lad kept still
About his browes, griping and holding fast
Yet (without harme) th' affrighted Youth, who'agast,
Turneth his head the clean contrary way,
Not knowing what to thinke, much lesse to say:
His oten pipe he then let fall through feare.
But leaving this discourse, we now draw neere
The Iudge we came to seek for. Herdsman God save thee.
The Iudge we came to seek for. Herdsman God save thee.
Paris.
The like to thee yong man: I only crave thee
To be resolv'd, What art thou? and to tell
What are these faire ones that in shape excell?
They are not such as daily we behold
Vpon these hills their flocks to graze and fold,
But fairer much.
Merc.
Know, these no women be,
But of more high strain and sublimitie;
That, Iuno; that Minerva; Venus shee,
And I the son of Maia, Mercurie.
Iove greets thee thus: Why do thy spirits faile?
Why trembl'st, and so suddenly lookst pale?
Feare not, there is no danger, his command
Is, Thou 'twixt these the vnpartiall Vmpire stand,
Of their choice features: Thus he bad me say,
Since thou thy selfe art beautifull, and may
(Though in this Ida there be Louers many)
Yet in these complements compare with any.
Therefore to thee this iudgement I commit,
As vnto him that best can censure it:
Behold this Golden Apple, and advise,
'Tis of the choicest beauty, the rare prise.
Paris.
Pray give me leave, what's there inscrib'd to view;
Give to the Fairest this as Beauties due.
How can I, my Lord Mercury, bee'ng humane,
And least of Mortals, a meere rustick swaine,
Be a sufficient judge? that Iove should prove me
In matters weighty and so far above me?
Such desceptations would be better try'de
In cities wall'd, where men are solely apply'de
To delicacies: what more can you expect
From me, than censure those that I protect;
To say, that she Goat is than this more faire,
And that this Heifer may with that compare:
To iudge of such I may perhaps have skill;
But these are beautifull alike, and still
The more my ravisht eies vpon them dwell,
The more they seem in beauty to excell:
Such admirable parts in all I spye,
From none of them I can retract myne eye;
Where first it fastens it insists, and thence
I hardly can withdraw myne Optick sence:
How am I then distracted severall waies,
Where still the present Object I must praise?
Where having dwelt with pleasure, if by chance,
Vpon a second I shall hap to glance,
Myne eye's took captive and surpris'd again,
For thence I strive to ransom it in vain.
What judgement can I give, when I protest,
The beauty that is neerest will shew best:
Then what a tumult it within me breeds,
When as by birth-right each of them succeeds?
Give to the Fairest this as Beauties due.
How can I, my Lord Mercury, bee'ng humane,
And least of Mortals, a meere rustick swaine,
146
In matters weighty and so far above me?
Such desceptations would be better try'de
In cities wall'd, where men are solely apply'de
To delicacies: what more can you expect
From me, than censure those that I protect;
To say, that she Goat is than this more faire,
And that this Heifer may with that compare:
To iudge of such I may perhaps have skill;
But these are beautifull alike, and still
The more my ravisht eies vpon them dwell,
The more they seem in beauty to excell:
Such admirable parts in all I spye,
From none of them I can retract myne eye;
Where first it fastens it insists, and thence
I hardly can withdraw myne Optick sence:
How am I then distracted severall waies,
Where still the present Object I must praise?
Where having dwelt with pleasure, if by chance,
Vpon a second I shall hap to glance,
Myne eye's took captive and surpris'd again,
For thence I strive to ransom it in vain.
What judgement can I give, when I protest,
The beauty that is neerest will shew best:
Then what a tumult it within me breeds,
When as by birth-right each of them succeeds?
In briefe, who to my true sence can restore me,
Their pulchritudes being circumfus'd all o're me?
As if my weake conceivements to confound,
At once they circle and involve me round;
Now I could wish I'had eies behinde, before,
And that I were like Argos, (eies all o're)
Iust, only I shall then my iudgement call,
When I this Apple can dispose to all.
Their pulchritudes being circumfus'd all o're me?
As if my weake conceivements to confound,
At once they circle and involve me round;
Now I could wish I'had eies behinde, before,
And that I were like Argos, (eies all o're)
Iust, only I shall then my iudgement call,
When I this Apple can dispose to all.
Let me collect my selfe! This is the Wife
And Sister to Great Iove, with whom to have strife
Were dangerous. These two his daughters, and
'Gainst them how can my opposition stand,
Without much prejudice?
And Sister to Great Iove, with whom to have strife
147
'Gainst them how can my opposition stand,
Without much prejudice?
Merc.
All I can say,
'Tis Ioves command, thou must perforce obey.
Paris.
One thing persuade them, Mercury, I intreat,
That the two Vanquisht would nor rage nor threat;
But to impute it, if they lose the prise,
To the fraile weaknesse of a Mortals eies.
Merc.
They so haue promis'd: but the time drawes on,
That now thy sentence must be call'd vpon.
Par.
Then to please one, I'le dare the spleen of two,
For in this straight what lesse can Paris do?
Yet one thing, Hermes, I with leave would know,
Is it enough to judge by th' outward shew,
Perusing them thus habited and clad?
Or wert not fit a nearer course were had?
To have them all stript naked, that myne eye
May view them with more curiositie?
Merc.
A question that from sound discretion growes,
And being Iudge, they are at thy dispose.
Paris.
At my dispose? Then I will haue all three
Stript to their skinnes.
Merc.
He'hath spoke; so it must be.
Vnbrace your selues, put off, and nothing hide;
Whilst he surveighs each part, I'le turne aside.
Iuno.
Well apprehended, Paris, and see, I
Disrobe me first: Now this way turne thine eye,
Behold my white wrists, and my arms quite bare,
And are not these incomparably rare?
I am nor staring, nor yet narrow ey'de,
These two the marks of Cowardise or Pride;
Where e're thy curious eye shall now invade,
I'am equally and vniformly made.
Paris.
Disrobe you likewise, Venus.
Minerva.
Not in haste,
148
And cast it by; that first thing let her grant thee,
For, Paris, shee's a Witch, and will inchant thee,
Being long studied in prestigious guiles,
And apt to circumvent thee with her smiles.
Nor was it meet she should have come thus gay,
Trickt vp in colours and such rich array,
Her cheeks with sundry paintings plaistred o're,
Like to some Prostitute or obscœne Whore:
When nothing but bare form and feature true
Should be expos'd vnto the Iudges view.
Paris.
Of that inchanted Belt you well advise;
Cast it away.
Venus.
Why doth not she likewise
Her glorious plumed helmet cast aside,
Or heave the brim that doth her forehead hide,
Displaying her uncover'd face and brest,
But with her truncheon strikes vpon her crest,
As if she meant the Iudge to terrifie,
That he th'upright cause might not verifie?
Or else (her threatning Burgaret cast hence)
Her blew faint eies might give the Iudge offence.
Miner.
There lies myne helmet.
Venus.
There my girdle by.
Iuno.
We now all bare to thine inspection ly.
Paris.
O Iove, thou Wonder-maker, make me bold,
What glorious objects do I now behold!
What pulchritude? What extasy'de delight?
What a rare Virgin 's that? how faire, how bright?
But she, how venerable? nay, divine?
What royall power within her front doth shine?
What majestie? yet intermixt with love,
She alone worthy to be wife to Iove
How lovely shines the tother in my face?
With what a moving irresistable grace?
Her tempting lips, so paralleld in meetnesse,
149
Of this vnbounded surplusage of pleasure,
I am now sated in abundant measure:
Therefore so please them to my will attone,
I gladly would peruse them one by one;
Being ambiguous in my selfe, and doubt,
(Distracted thus) I shall not long hold out:
How can my brain or eye be truly guided,
Being at once so many waies divided.
Venus.
So let us do.
Paris.
You two your selves retyre;
But Iuno stay.
Iuno.
It is my sole desire.
And when thou hast with thy acutest eyes
Perus'd this feature, void of all disguise,
And with thy most inquisitive eyes made way
Through all that thou canst possibly display,
I'le give the rest place. Great is my donation,
If I prevaile by thee: make proclamation,
That I am Vict'resse, and take Iuno's word,
I'le of all Asia make thee King and Lord.
Paris.
I am not sway'd with gifts; but be you gon,
What's right and iust must now be thought vpon.
Draw neere, Minerva.
Miner.
See, I am at hand:
If in this strife of Beauty first I stand,
And thou pronounce me fairest; from thy cattell,
I'le bring thee vnto many a glorious battell,
From whence thou, vanquisht never shalt retyre;
I'le make thee a prime Generall, and aspire
To deeds of fame and honor, in all which
Thou shalt be conqueror, crown'd with triumphs rich.
Paris.
Of thundring wars I (Pallas) have no feare;
Peace (as you see) is publisht every where,
Phrygia and Lydia are now both at rest,
Neither with forrein nor home-broiles opprest,
150
Thinke not that I your noble gifts forget;
You may hope well, yet know me thus far stayd,
I being Iudge must not with bribes be swayd:
Take up your garments, put your Helmet on,
I'have seen sufficient, you may now be gon.
Now your time calls you, Uenus.
Venus.
I am here,
And be not sparing, Paris, with eies cleere
Contemplate me in all and every member,
Passe nothing cursorily, but still remember
What now thou seest; fix both thine eies and heart
Not in one place, but all and every part,
And where the object pleaseth let them dwell;
Then truly iudge if I the rest excell.
And be not sparing, Paris, with eies cleere
Contemplate me in all and every member,
Passe nothing cursorily, but still remember
What now thou seest; fix both thine eies and heart
Not in one place, but all and every part,
And where the object pleaseth let them dwell;
Then truly iudge if I the rest excell.
Whilst th'other sences are full feasted here,
Lend me (ô Faire one) for a while thine eare;
I'have seen thee oft, and have observ'd thee long
To be a Youth more beautifull and strong
Than any other here in Phrygia bred;
So I have thought, so I have often sed.
Yet as I for thy curious parts commend thee,
For some things I of force must reprehend thee;
Who 'mongst these crags and rocks consum'st thy prime,
Spending thy beauty, which will fade by time,
In solitudes, with beasts that peopled are,
And not in cities, who can judge what's rare:
What (prethee) in these mountaines canst thou gain?
Thy Beeves and Cowes shall censure thee in vain,
Thou'art lost amongst them: it should be thy pride,
(Richly arrayd) to seeke thee out a Bride,
No Shepherdesse or rustick Damsell, such
As Ida in aboundance yeelds too much.
I would haue thee finde out some Grecian Queen,
Such as in Argos are, or Corinth seen,
Or in Lacena. Now I call to minde,
There's Spartan Hellen; ô that thou couldst finde
And compasse her: to thee I make confession,
Shee's yong and beautifull beyond expression,
Nay in all parts both outward and interior,
(Still view me) no way to this shape inferior;
And what above these should inflame thy minde,
She is not coy, but affable and kinde:
Who had she seen, as I behold thee now
(All fortunes quite relinquisht) would, I vow,
As knowing no way to be better sped,
Fly to thine armes, thy bosome, and thy bed.
Perhaps of such an one you have heard tell.
Lend me (ô Faire one) for a while thine eare;
I'have seen thee oft, and have observ'd thee long
To be a Youth more beautifull and strong
Than any other here in Phrygia bred;
So I have thought, so I have often sed.
Yet as I for thy curious parts commend thee,
For some things I of force must reprehend thee;
Who 'mongst these crags and rocks consum'st thy prime,
Spending thy beauty, which will fade by time,
In solitudes, with beasts that peopled are,
And not in cities, who can judge what's rare:
What (prethee) in these mountaines canst thou gain?
Thy Beeves and Cowes shall censure thee in vain,
Thou'art lost amongst them: it should be thy pride,
(Richly arrayd) to seeke thee out a Bride,
No Shepherdesse or rustick Damsell, such
As Ida in aboundance yeelds too much.
I would haue thee finde out some Grecian Queen,
Such as in Argos are, or Corinth seen,
Or in Lacena. Now I call to minde,
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And compasse her: to thee I make confession,
Shee's yong and beautifull beyond expression,
Nay in all parts both outward and interior,
(Still view me) no way to this shape inferior;
And what above these should inflame thy minde,
She is not coy, but affable and kinde:
Who had she seen, as I behold thee now
(All fortunes quite relinquisht) would, I vow,
As knowing no way to be better sped,
Fly to thine armes, thy bosome, and thy bed.
Perhaps of such an one you have heard tell.
Paris.
Never, ô Venus, but you please me well
In her description: on: to whatsoe're
You speake of her, I'le give attentive eare.
Uenus.
She was the childe of Læda, than her mother,
(Till she outstript her) liv'd not such another.
For Læda was Ioves Paramor, who then
To have of her fruition, like a swan,
Downe sowsing came from heaven, by whose congression
Hellen, is Ioves owne daughter, by succession.
Paris.
Of what aspect is she?
Venus.
White without spot;
And needs she must, being 'twixt two Swans begot:
That she is soft and tender, agrees well;
Conceiv'd and born too in a smooth white shell;
Naked she wrestles oft for exercise,
And from these games returnes with many a prise:
Sutors from all parts have come thronging to her,
And happy he could finde the grace to woo her.
Nay, such as have bin forc'd to go without her,
Not only threatned, but rais'd war about her.
Even Theseus held her choice of all his blisses,
Nor could he stay till she were ripe for kisses,
But ravisht her yet yong: but when she came
To a full feather, her unequal'd fame
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Princes, and of the Argives the chiefe States
Solicited her Nuptials: the prime man
Was Menelaus the Pelopidan,
He wood and woon; and yet if thou agree,
Her and her Dower I will confer on thee.
Paris.
What's this you speake? wil you your pains imploy
To give me, whom another doth enioy?
Venus.
Is that a thing which difficult appeares?
Thou art as yong in knowledge as in yeares.
I promise what I can performe with ease.
Paris.
Shew me the means how, and it well shall please.
Venus.
Then thus; Thou shalt a voyage vndertake
To travell through all populous Greece, and make
That thy designe. Now when thou shalt arrive
At Lacedemon, Helena will strive
To give thee welcome. What shall then succeed
Leave to my care, for thine it shall not need.
Paris.
But this appeares incredible to me,
Impossible and meerly absurd, that she
Should leave a husband, kingdome, and a Crowne,
Subjects and servants, and all these her owne,
Forsaking land, to hazard the seas danger,
To follow me, a rude guest and a stranger.
Venus.
Be thou of courage; for the same intent
I have two lovely children shall be sent
Thy Guides and Captaines, who with all facilitie
Shall worke my ends: (Cupid and Amabilitie)
Cupid shall altogether undermine her,
And to thy selfe impulsively combine her.
With thee shall Amabilitie persever,
At all occasions be about thee ever;
By whose infusion thou shalt be inspir'd
To'appeare to her much lovely, most desir'd.
I will be present there, the more to friend thee,
And will entreat the Graces to attend thee,
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What cannot we compell her to? and whether?
Paris.
And yet, faire Venus, I am still in doubt,
By what safe means this may be brought about.
I love that Hellen, though as yet unknowne,
And (by what means I know not) I am growne
Inamor'd of her; for beholding thee,
(O Venus) now me-thinks I Hellen see.
Me-thinks for Greece I now am vnder saile,
In Sparta am safe landed, and prevaile;
That I behold her in her beauties pride,
And bring from thence a bright and glorious Bride.
Why, e're begin, do I applaud the end?
I grieve I act not what I apprehend.
Venus.
Be not too forward in thy love, I prethee,
But (ô thou fair'st of Neat-heards) take me with thee;
Doat not too soone, nor be thou over-speedy,
Till I my selfe thy Bride-bed have made ready,
Having first reconcil'd you: with condition
That I of this great prise may have fruition.
'Twill grace your mariage, when as Victresse I
Shall present be at that Solemnitie,
And after all such busie pain and toile,
Vnto my triumph adde thy glorious spoile.
Do but thou make this golden Apple mine,
Shee with her love and bride-bed are all thine.
Paris.
And yet perhaps when you have gain'd this prise,
You may neglect, and me (a Swaine) despise.
Venus.
Shall I sweare to thee?
Paris.
No, it shall suffice,
That you have past your promise.
Venus.
Heare me then,
(O thou most faire and beautifull of men)
I vow, all lets and cavils set aside,
This hand shall give thee Hellen for thy Bride;
That from all future dangers I'le defend thee,
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That she shall follow thee, and prostitute
Both will and body to thine amorous smile:
That I'le be there to see how all things stand,
And have in all these an assistant hand.
Paris.
But will you bring along rankt in their places
Cupid and Amabilitie, with the Graces?
Venus.
Doubt not I will, and to make quick dispatch,
Desire and Hymen, to conclude the match.
Paris.
For these, and these alone, as fair'st of all,
Uenus, to thee I give the golden Ball.
| Pleasant dialogues and dramma's | |