VULCAN. How ye agree, my masters, I cannot tell; [_To Venus_.] But, were we a-bed, we two could agree well. JUPITER. Gramercy, Mercury; I know thy will Is ever prest to further my desire: In sign whereof, to quiet all things well, And to suppress betimes the secret fire, That I perceive would break and mount up higher: This to prevent, content ye here to stay, To mark awhile what for themselves they say. And, Venus, here I charge thee on my grace, Not that I found thee heretofore untrue, But for thine adversary is not yet in place, Thou tell uprightly whence your quarrel grew; What words betwixt you thereof did ensue. Say, lovely daughter; tell us flat thy mind: They shall be blamed on whom the fault we find. VENUS. O thou, that governest everything, that gods and men attempt, And with thy fearful thunderbolt their doings dost prevent, What hath thy daughter so deserved? what doth she, silly dame, Before ye thus to be abused with undeserved blame? Surely, but that my[68] duty commands me now to speak, For such a trifling cause this way my wrath I would not wreak. But she--no marvel though she seek my seat thus to stain, When otherways she cannot tell advantage how to gain. But thence this hot despite: _Hinc illae lacrimae_, Because, I say, she could not prove herself of power with me. For, all you godheads know, she pains but such as pleasure knew: She never grieves the groaning mind, where gladness never grew. She never overthrows but at the top of joy; For they that never tasted bliss mislike not their annoy. But I torment the mind that never felt relief; I plague the wretch that never thought on comfort in his grief, That never had the hope of any happy chance, That never once so much as deem'd I would his state advance. Think, then, which of us both are of the greater power: Once in his life, or not at all, to grant a light'ning hour? I need not stand to make rehearsal here at all, For gods and ghosts, yea, men and beasts, unto my power are thrall. I dare appeal to you, if I should look awry-- Say, father, with your leave, in heaven who dares my word deny? And if I please to smile, who will not laugh outright? Whereby my great omnipotence is known to every wight. I make the noble love the bastard in degree; I tame and temper all the tongues that rail and scoff at me. What bird, what beast, what worm, but feeleth my delight? What lives or draweth breath, but[69] I can pleasure or despite? Yet divers things there be that Fortune cannot tame; As are the riches of the mind, or else an honest name, Or a contented heart, still free from Fortune's power: But such as climb, before they crawl, must drink the sweet with sour. Thyself, O Jupiter, didst grant sometimes to me, Of all things here beneath the moon I should the ruler be: Thou say'st I did deserve the honour of that praise; Thyself didst once devise whereby my glory first to raise. Is this my sovereignty? is this so glorious? Is this becoming thy renown, to quit thy daughter thus?