XIII.
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 doe 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 sale.
XIV.
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 gloomy light,
And wanting wit is counted but a trife,
Especially when Honour's put to flight:
Thus of a louely, soone becomes a loathly sight.
