With duskie Mantle of the sable Night:

And Cynthia lifting vp her drouping head,

Blusht at the Beautie of her borrowed light,

When Sleepe now summon'd euery mortal wight.

Then loe (me thought) I saw or seem'd to see,

An heauenly Creature like an Angell bright,

That in great haste came pacing towards me:

Was neuer mortall eye beheld so faire a Shee.

Thou lazie man (quoth she) what mak'st thou heere

(Luld in the lap of Honours Enimie?)

I heere commaund thee now for to appeare

(By vertue of Ioves mickle Maiestie)

In yonder Wood. (Which with her finger shee

Out-poynting) had no sooner turn'd her face,

And leauing mee to muze what she should bee,

Yuanished into some other place:

But straite (me thought) I saw a rout of heauenlie Race.

There might one see, and yet not see (indeede)

Fresh Flora flourishing in chiefest Prime,

Arrayed all in gay and gorgeous weede,

The Primrose and sweet-smelling Eglantine,

As fitted best beguiling so the time:

And euer as she went she strewd the place,

Red-roses mixt with Daffadillies fine,

For Gods and Goddesses, that in like case

In this same order sat, with il-beseeming grace.

First, in a royall Chaire of massie gold,

(Bard all about with plates of burning steele)

Sat Iupiter most glorious to behold,

And in his hand was placed Fortunes wheele:

The which he often turn'd, and oft did reele.

And next to him, in griefe and gealouzie,

(If sight may censure what the heart doth feele)

In sad lament was placed Mercurie;

That dying seem'd to weep, and weeping seem'd to die.

On th'other side, aboue the other twaine,

(Delighting as it seem'd to sit alone)

Sat Mulciber; in pride and high disdaine,

Mounted on high vpon a stately throne,

And euen with that I heard a deadly grone:

Muzing at this, and such an vncouth sight,

(Not knowing what shoulde make that piteous mone)

I saw three furies, all in Armour dight,

With euery one a Lampe, and euery one a light.

In which delight feeding mine hungry eye,

Of two great Goddesses a sight I had,

And after them in wondrous Iollity,

(As one that inly ioy'd, so was she glad)

The Queene of Loue full royallie yclad,

In glistring Gold, and peerelesse precious stone,

There might I spie: and her Companion had,

Proud Paris, Nephew to Laomedon,

That afterward did cause the Death of many a one.

By this the formost melting all in teares,

And rayning downe resolued Pearls in showers,

Gan to approach the place of heauenly Pheares,

And with her weeping, watring all their Bowers,

Throwing sweet Odors on those fading flowers,

At length, she them bespake thus mournfullie.

High Ioue (quoth she) and yee Coelestiall powers,

That here in Iudgement sit twixt her and mee,

Now listen (for a while) and iudge with equitie.

Sporting our selues to day, as wee were woont

(I meane, I, Pallas, and the Queene of Loue.)

Intending with Diana for to hunt,

On Ida Mountaine top our skill to proue,

A golden Ball was trindled from aboue,

And on the Rinde was writ this Poesie,

PvlcherimÆ for which a while we stroue,

Each saying shee was fairest of the three,

When loe a shepheards Swaine not far away we see.

I promis'd wealth, Minerua promised wit,

(Shee promis'd wit to him that was vnwise,)

But he (fond foole) had soone refused it,

And minding to bestow that glorious Prize,

On Venus, that with pleasure might suffize

His greedie minde in loose lasciuiousnes:

Vpon a sudden, wanting goode aduice,

Holde heere (quoth he) this golden Ball possesse,

Which Paris giues to thee for meede of worthines,

Thus haue I shew'd the summe of all my sute,

And as a Plaintiffe heere appeale to thee,

And to the rest. Whose folly I impute

To filthie lust, and partialitie,

That made him iudge amisse: and so doo we

(Quoth Pallas, Venus,) nor will I gaine-say,

Although it's mine by right, yet willinglie,

I heere disclaime my title and obey:

When silence being made, Ioue thus began to saie.

Thou Venus, art my darling, thou my deare,

(Minerua) shee, my sister and my wife:

So that of all a due respect I beare,

Assign'd as one to end this doubtfull strife,

(Touching your forme, your fame, your loue, your life)

Beauty is vaine much like a glo

The Conclusion.

FINIS.