JUNO

THough I a goddess glance through Azure round, While the eie-feather'd birds my coach do move: And am with radiant stars heavens Empress crowned, The sister, and the wife of thundering Jove. And though I banquet in the Aetherial bowers, Where Ambrosie and Nectar serves for meat: And at the meeting of th'immortall powers, Am still advanced unto the highest seat: Yet by those glorious shows of boundless bliss, My martyred mind can no way be relieved, Since immortality affords but this, That I may ever live being ever grieved. In vain, vain mortals seek for help at me, With Sacred odours on my Altars thrown: What expectation can they have to see, One venge their wrongs, that cannot venge her own? Might Pallas once drown thousands in the seas. And metamorphose Diomedes mates? And must mine enemies always live in ease, As me to spite, appointed by the fates? Of all the dying raze that lives below, With such indignities none could comport, As wound my breast, whom gods and men do know To be abused by Jove in many a sort. Though known to me, from others if concealde, His faults might breed me grief, but yet not shame: Where lo, now both through heaven & earth reuealde, Each standerous Theater does his scorn proclaim. If heavenly souls divinely lived aloft, Inferior world would imitate them then: But humanized by haunting mortals oft, Where men should grow Like gods, gods grow Like men. My painted Iris in her beauty's pride, Smiles not on Phœbus with so many hues: As Jove in diverse shapes himself can hide, When he poor maids by Cupid spurred pursues. He Danae in a golden shower deceiude, And did a Swan in Leda's bosom light, Then being a Bull Agenors daughter reaved, And Iö made a Cow to mock my sighed. But would to God that with such wanton dams, He still to sport would as with me remain, Not able then embrace celestial flames, All Like the drunkards mother might be slain. Then such a troop as Rhea bosom stores, Would not hold him and me at endless jars: The heavens are pestered with my husbands whores, Whose lights impure, do taint the purest stars. All injuries are heavy to digest, Yet actors greatness does some grief remove: Of whom to suffer wrong it shames one least; If I were wrongde, I would be wrongde by Jove. But (ah) this long hath tirraniz'd my breast, A man, a boy, a shepherd, yea and worse, The Phrygian firebrand, the adulterous guest, That first wrought wrong by fraud and then by force. He, he, was he whose verdict moved me most, While it on Ida wronged my beauty's right; No wonder too though one all judgement lost, That had three naked goddesses in sighed. And yet I know were not his wandering eyes, The Cyprian bribde by some lascivious smiles, My pompous birds in triumph through the skies, Had born the gold that oft her nymphs beguiles. Am not I she whose greatness is admire, Whom Jove for wife, whom thousands court for love? Whom haughty Ixion once embrace desired, Yet with a cloud deluded did remove. What needed me a matter to submit, Where my authority might have auailde? While though I promised wealth, and Pallas wit, Yet with a young man Venus gift prevailed. But how durst he t'ones pleasure thus give place, Where two contemned their honour would repair? Is not our Sex impatient of disgrace? Of which there's none, but loves to be thought fair. Avenge my self no kind of pain I sparde, And made his greatest gain his greatest lose: As Venus gave him Helen for reward, I gave him Helen for his greatest cross. Nor did he long her love with joy enjoy, Whose faithless flames his country did confound: While armies armed, for her did Troy destroy, And leveled Neptune's labours with the ground. While Simois seem'de to be a burial field, Whose streams as streets were with dead bodies paved All Xanthus plain as turned t'a sea did yield A flood of blood, from Heroes wounds received By braving thousands once though much esteemed, By dust and blood deformed, of Hector slain (Nor Like Patrocius by the sword redeemed) The body basely was bought back again. Then by the same men son that killed his son, the old Priamus surprised sighed forth his breath: And being most harmed where he for help had run, While taking th'Altar, taken was by death; Though wrestling long avoid the heavens decree, By enemies sword being parted from the light, He that l u'de Helen, and was loath de by me, Died as a sacrifice t'appease my spite. Last having lived (if misery be a life) T'entombe all hers, that high mishaps had tried Though once being both, nor mother then, nor wife, The fertile Hecub', as being barren died. Thus by those means it would have seemed to some, That my scornde beauty had been highly vengde: But while they were over-comed they did overcome, Since they for better states their states have change. I in one partly, that people did confound, But did enlarge their power in every place: All warlike nations through the world renowned, Now from the Phrygian ruins raise their raze. And yet two traitors that betrayed the rest, (Oh heavens, that treason thus should prosper while) Of the Dardanian raze did chance the best, More happy then at home in their exiles. Did not Antenor stealing through his foes, Near to the Euganian mountains built a town, Of which some nurslings once shall seek repose Amid the waves, and in the depths fit down? Their city spousing Neptune, shall arise The rarest commonwealth that ever was. Whose people, if as stout, as rich and wise, Might boast to bring miraculous things to pass. Then false Aeneas (though but born obey) Did of a fugitive become a King: And some of his near Tibers streams that stay, Would all the world to their obedience bring. Their ravenous Eagles soaring over all lands, By violence imperial prey have won: That bastard brood of Mars with martial bans, Have conquered both the mansions of the Sun. Their course by mountains could not be controlde, No, Neptune could not keep his bosom free. Th'antartike heat, nor yet the artike cold, No limits to their legions could decree. Oh of that city there could come no good, Whose rising walls with more than barbarous rage, The builder first bathed with his brother's blood, Which their prodigious conquests did presage. That town hath oft my soul with anguish filled, Whose newborn state oft triumphed over my wrath: Like my old foe that in his cradle killed, The serpents that I sent to give him death. By Sabins, Albans, Tuscans oft assailde, Even in her infancy I tossde Rome's state: Yet still Laomedons false raze preuailde, And angry Juno could do nought but hate. Then when the gallant Gauls had vanquished Room, That basely bought her liberty with gold: A banished man Camillus chanced to come, And her imballanc'd state redeemde of old. Great Hannibal our common cause pursued, And made his bans within their bounds remain, With Consuls and with Praetors bloods imbrued, At Thrasimene and at Cannae slain. In Roman minds strange thoughts did fear infuse That did attend the taking of their town: But he that vanquish could, not victory use, Was by their brazen destiny thrown down. Oh what a torrent of Barbarians once, Inunding over the Alps their walls did boast, While Teutons and the Cimbers big of bones, Like giants marched a more than monstrous host. But though from unknown parts to ruin Room, I led those troops that all the world admire, Yet did the tyrant Marius them overcome, And I in vain to venge old wrongs aspired. By baser means I likewise sought her harms, While Janus church imported never peace, I raised up abject Spartacus in arms, That near eclipsed Rome's glory with disgrace. Though I that all the world for help have sought, From Europe, Africa, and from Asia thus: Gauls, Carthaginians, and Cimbers brought, Yet did the damage still redound to us. Of heaven and earth I all the powers have proved, And for their wrack have each advantage watched: But they by foreign force could not be moved, By Roman, Roman only may be matched. And I at last have kindled civil war, That from their thoughts which now no reason bounds, Not only laws, but Nature's laws does bar, The son the sire, the brother brother wounds. While th'Eagl S are opposed to eagles so, Oh what contentment does my mind contain: No wround is wrong bestowed, each kills a foe, What ever side does loose I always gain. But this my soul exceedingly annoys, All are not subject to the Like mishap: The war helps some as others it destroys, And those that hate me most, have still best hap. While with their blood their glory thousands spend, Ah, ones advancement aggravates my woe: That vaunts himself from Venus to descend, As if he claimed by kind to be my foe. I mean the man whose thoughts nought can appease While them too high a blind ambition bends, Whom as her minion Fortune bent to please, Her rarest treasures prodigally spends. Not only hath he daunted by the sword, The Gauls, the Germanes, and the Egyptians now, But of all lords pretends to be made lord, That who command the world to him may bow. Thus dispossessing princes of their thrones, While his ambition nothing can assuage: That the subjected world in bondage groans, The prey of pride, the sacrifice of rage. Men rail on Jove, and sighs for Saturn's time, And to the present still th'Age passed prefer: Then burden would the gods with every crime, And damn the heavens where only earth does err. Though Jove as stupid still with Cupid sports, And not the humour of proud Caesar spies: That may (if forcing thus the world's chief forts) More powerful than the Titan's scale the skies. Yet lest he thrall him too that none free leaves, We from the bounds above must him repel: To brawl with Pluto in umbrageous caves, There since he will be first made first in hell. What? with that tyrant I will strait be even, And send his soul to the Tartarian grove: For though Joan be not jealous of his heaven, Yet Juno must be jealous of her Jove; And though none in the heauem would do him ill, He raise up some in earth to haste his death; Yea though both heaven and earth neglect my will, Hell can afford me ministers of wrath. I'll cross Cocytus and the smoking Lake's, To borrow all my brother's damned bands: The Furies armed with firebrands and with snakes, Shall plant their hell where Room so stately stands. While by my fury Furies furious made, Do spare the dead to have the lilting pined: Oh with what joy will I that army lead? Nought than revenge more sweet t'a wronged mind. I'll once make this a memorable age, By this high vengeance that I have conceived: But what though thousands die t'appease my rage? So Caesar perish, let no soul be saved.