To understand the first, it is necessary to explain that while Christ is on earth a dispute between Justice and Mercy, such as is often represented by the theologians, takes place in heaven.  We must allow the unsuitable fiction attributing distraction to the divine Unity, for the sake of the words in which Mercy overthrows the arguments of Justice.  For the poet unintentionally nullifies the symbolism of the theologian, representing Justice as defeated.  He forgets that the grandest exercise of justice is mercy.  The confusion comes from the fancy that justice means vengeance upon sin, and not the doing of what is right.  Justice can be at no strife with mercy, for not to do what is just would be most unmerciful.

Mercy first sums up the arguments Justice has been employing against her, in the following stanza: 

  He was but dust; why feared he not to fall? 
      And being fallen how can he hope to live? 
    Cannot the hand destroy him that made all? 
      Could he not take away as well as give? 
      Should man deprave, and should not God deprive? 
    Was it not all the world’s deceiving spirit
    (That, bladdered up with pride of his own merit,
  Fell in his rise) that him of heaven did disinherit?

To these she then proceeds to make reply: 

  He was but dust:  how could he stand before him? 
      And being fallen, why should he fear to die? 
    Cannot the hand that made him first, restore him? 
      Depraved of sin, should he deprived lie
      Of grace?  Can he not find infirmity
    That gave him strength?—­Unworthy the forsaking
    He is, whoever weighs (without mistaking)
  Or maker of the man or manner of his making.[89]

    Who shall thy temple incense any more,
      Or to thy altar crown the sacrifice,
    Or strew with idle flowers the hallowed floor? 
      Or what should prayer deck with herbs and spice, why.
      Her vials breathing orisons of price,
    If all must pay that which all cannot pay? 
    O first begin with me, and Mercy slay,
  And thy thrice honoured Son, that now beneath doth stray.

    But if or he or I may live and speak,
      And heaven can joy to see a sinner weep,
    Oh! let not Justice’ iron sceptre break
      A heart already broke, that low doth creep,
      And with prone humbless her feet’s dust doth sweep. 
    Must all go by desert?  Is nothing free? 
    Ah! if but those that only worthy be,
  None should thee ever see! none should thee ever see!

    What hath man done that man shall not undo
      Since God to him is grown so near akin? 
    Did his foe slay him?  He shall slay his foe. 
      Hath he lost all?  He all again shall win. 
      Is sin his master?  He shall master sin. 
    Too hardy soul, with sin the field to try! 
    The only way to conquer was to fly;
  But thus long death hath lived, and now death’s self shall die.