Wherewith to grounde a golden gauntlet, I
Dyd cast, and he at last dyd thus reply:
40.
“Thou mighty Ioue, which hast seemely seat
Aboue the sphere of Mars and Mercury,
Thy fleshlesse eyes (my tongue can not repeate,
What syghtes they see) nothing is hid from thee:
Thy eyes, the hart, and secrete thoughts doo see,
Thou knowest, O Ioue, how iust my quarrel is,
Which here to proue, thou knowst I compt a blisse.