Classic Poem

ACT I .

Juno.

Though I (a godesse) grace the azure round,
Whilst birds (all bright with eyes, coach do move,
And am with radient starres, heavens empresse crown'd,
The thunderers sister, wife of mighty Iove ,
And though I banquet in th' etheriall bowres,
Where ambrosie and nectar serves for meate,
And at the meeting of th' immortall powres,
Am still advanc'd unto the highest seat:
Yet by those glorious shewes of boundlesse blesse,
My burden'd minde can no way be reliev'd:
Since immortality affords but this,
That I live ever to be ever griev'd.
In vaine, vaine mortals seeke for helpe at me,
With sacred odours on my altars throwne:
What expectation can they have to see
One venge their wrongs, who cannot venge her own?
May Pallas then drowne thousands if she please,
Who metamorphos'd Diomedes mates?
And must my enemies alwaies live at ease,
As me to spight appointed by the fates?
Of all the dying race which lives below,
With such indignities none could comport,
As wound my brest, whom gods and men doe know,
To be abus'd by Iove in many a sort,
Though knowne to me, from others if conceal'd,
His faults might breed me griefe, but yet not shame;
Where, loe, now both through heaven and earth reveal'd,
Each slandrous theater doth his scorne proclaime.
If divine soules divinely liv'd aloft,
The world below would imitate them then,
But humaniz'd by haunting mortals oft,
Where men should grow like gods, gods grow like men,
My painted Iris in her beauties pride,
Smiles not on Phaebus with so many hewes,
As Iove in divers shapes himselfe can hide,
When he poore maydes (by Cupid spurr'd) pursues;
He Danae (a golden shower) deceiv'd;
And did (a swanne) in Ledaes bosome light;
Then (turn'd a bull) Agenors daughter reav'd;
And Io made a cow to mocke my sight:
But O! I wish that with such wanton dames,
He still to sport would as with me remaine;
Not able then to touch celestiall flames,
All (like the drunkards mother) might be slaine.
Then such a troupe as Rheas bosome stores,
Would not hold him and me at endlesse jarres;
The heavens are pestred with my husbands whores,
Whose lights impure doe taint the purest starres.
" Though wrongs, when grosse, are heavy to digest,
" An actors greatnesse doth some griefe remove,
" Of whom to suffer wrong it shames one least:
" If I were wrong'd I would be wrong'd by Iove . "
But (ah) this long, tormented hath my brest,
A man, a boy, a shepheard, yea, and worse,
The Phrygian fire-brand, the adultrous guest,
Who first wrought wrong by fraud, and then by force;
He, he was he, whose verdict mov'd me most,
Whilst partiall fancies judg'd of beauties right;
Nor was it strange though one all judgement lost,
Who had three naked goddesses in sight;
And yet I know, had not his wandring eyes
The Cyprian brib'd by some lascivious smiles,
My pompous birds (in triumph) through the skyes,
Had borne the gold which oft her nymphs beguiles;
And am I she whose greatnesse is admir'd,
Whom Iove for wife, whom thousands court for love?
Whom haughty Ixion to embrace desir'd,
Yet with a cloud deluded did remove?
And what made me a matter to submit,
Where my authority might have avail'd?
Whilst though I promis'd wealth, and Pallas wit,
Yet with a yong man, Venus most prevail'd;
" But how durst he of one the glory raise,
" Where two contemn'd would needs the wrong repaire?
" It spites our sexe to heare anothers praise,
" Of which each one would be thought onely faire. "
To venge my selfe no kinde of paine I spar'd,
And made his greatest gaine his greatest losse:
As Venus gave him Helen for reward,
I gave him Helen for his greatest crosse;
Nor did he long with joy her love enjoy,
Whose fatall flames his country did confound,
Whilst armies arm'd for her did Troy destroy,
And Neptunes labours levell'd with the ground;
Whilst Simois seem'd to be a buriall field,
Whose streams (as streets) were with dead bodies pav'd,
All Zanthus plaine (as turn'd a sea) did yeeld
A floud of bloud, from Heroes wounds receiv'd;
Whilst braving thousands once, though much esteem'd,
By dust and bloud deform'd, of Hector slaine,
(Not like Patroclus by the sword redeem'd)
The body basely was bought backe againe;
Then, by the same mans sonne who kill'd his sonne,
Old Priamus surpriz'd, sigh'd forth his breath,
And even most harm'd where he for helpe had runne,
The altar taking, taken was by death.
Though wrestling long to scape the heavens decree,
(Bloud quenching lust) last parted from the light,
He who lov'd Helen , and was loath'd by me,
Did (as a sacrifice) appease my spight.
Then, having liv'd (if wretches have a life)
Till (in all her ere dead, oft buried spi'd)
Though once known both, nor mother then, nor wife,
The fertile Hecuba (made childelesse) dy'd.
Thus, by those meanes it would have seem'd to some
That scorned beauty had beene well reveng'd:
But whilst they were o'recomed, they did o'recome,
Since they their states for better states have chang'd.
I in one part that people did confound,
But did enlarge their powers in every place:
All war-like nations through the world renown'd,
From Phrygian ruines strive to raise their race.
And yet two traitors who betray'd the rest —
O! that the heaven on treason sometimes smiles!
Though having worst deserv'd, did chance the best,
More happy then at home in their exiles;
Did not Antenor (stealing through his foes)
Neere to th' Euganian mountaines build a towne,
Of which some nurslings once shall seeke repose,
Amidst the waves, and in the depths sit downe:
Their citie (spousing Neptune ) shall arise,
The rarest common-wealth that ever was,
Whose people, if as stout as rich and wise,
Might boast to bring miraculous things to passe.
Then false Æneas , though but borne t' obey,
Did (of a fugitive) become a king:
And some of his neere Tibers streames that stay,
Would all the world to their obedience bring.
Their ravenous eagles soaring o're all lands,
By violence a mighty prey have wonne,
That bastard brood of Mars with martiall bands,
Have conquer'd both the mansions of the sunne;
Their course by mountaines could not be controld,
No; Neptune could not keep his bosome free:
The parching heate, nor yet the freezing cold,
Their legions limits no way could decree;
Yet, of that city there can come no good,
Whose rising walles with more then barbarous rage,
The builder first bath'd with his brothers bloud,
Which their prodigious conquests did presage.
Oft hath that towne my soule with anguish filled,
Whose new-borne state did triumph o're my wrath,
Like my old foe who in his cradle kill'd
The serpents which I sent to give him death.
By Sabins , Albans , Tuscans , oft assail'd,
Even in her infancy I toss'd Romes state,
Yet still Laomedons false race prevail'd,
And angry Iuno could doe nought but hate.
Then when the gallant Gaules had vanquish'd Rome ,
Who basely bought her liberty with gold,
A banish'd man Camillus chanc'd to come,
And her imballanc'd state redeem'd of old;
Great Hanniball our common cause pursu'd,
And made his bands within their bounds remaine,
With consuls and with pretors bloud, imbru'd,
At Phrasimene , and at Cannas slayne;
In Romans mindes, strange thoughts did doubt infuse,
But whilst they fear'd the taking of their towne,
He who could vanquish, victory not use,
Was by their brasen fate (when high) thrown downe;
O what a torrent of barbarian bands,
In inundations once their walles did boast,
Whilst Teutons huge, and Cymbers from their lands,
Like gyants march'd, a more then monstrous hoste?
But though from parts unknowne to ruine Rome ,
I led those troupes which all the world admir'd,
Yet did fierce Marius me with them o'recome,
And I in vaine to venge old wrongs aspir'd;
By meanes more base I likewise sought her harmes,
Whilst Ianus church imported never peace,
I rais'd up abject Spartacus in armes,
Who neere eclips'd Romes glory with disgrace.
Though I who all the world for helpe have sought,
From Europe , Africke , and from Asia thus,
Gaules, Carthaginians, and the Cymbers brought,
Yet did the dammage still rebound to us:
Of heaven and earth I all the pow'rs have prov'd,
And for their wracke have each advantage watch'd:
But they by forraine force cannot be mov'd:
By Romans, Romans onely may be match'd.
And I at last have kindled civill warre,
That from their thoughts (which now no reason bounds)
Not onely laws, but natures laws doth barre;
The sonne the syre, the brother brother wounds;
Whil'st th' eagles are oppos'd to th' eagles so,
O what contentment doth my minde attaine!
No wound is wrong bestow'd, each kills a foe,
What ever side doth lose, I alwayes gaine.
But this my soule exceedingly annoyes,
That all at one time cannot be supprest:
" The warre helps some, as others it destroyes, "
And those who hate me most, still prosper best.
Whil'st with their bloud their glory thousands spend,
Ah! ones advancement aggravates my woe,
Who vaunts himselfe from Venus to descend;
As if he claim'd by kinde to be my foe.
I meane the man whose thoughts nought can appease,
Whil'st them too high a blinde ambition bends,
Whom (as her minion) fortune bent to please,
Her rarest treasures prodigally spends;
Not onely hath he daunted by the sword
The Gauls , the Germans , and th' Ægyptians 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,
Whil'st his ambition nothing can asswage,
That the subjected world in bondage grones,
The prey of pride the sacrifice to rage,
" Men raile on Iove , and sigh for Saturnes time,
" And to the present, ages past preferre,
" Then burden would the gods with every crime,
" And damne the heavens, where onely th' earth doth erre. "
Though Iove (as stupid) still with Cupid sports,
And not the humour of proud Caesar spies?
Who may (if forcing thus the worlds chiefe forts)
Then Titans earst, more pow'rfull, scale the skies,
Yet lest he thrall him too, who none free leaves,
We from the bounds above him must repell,
To brawle with Pluto in th' umbragious caves,
There since he will be first, made first in hell.
What? with that tyrant I will straight be even,
And send his soule to the Tartarian grove:
Though Iove will not be jealous of his heaven,
Yet Iuno must be jealous of her Iove;
And though none in the heavens would do him ill,
I'le raise up some in th' earth to haste his death:
Yea, though both heaven and earth neglect my will,
Hell can afford me ministers of wrath:
I'le crosse Cocytus , and the smoaking lakes,
To borrow thence my brothers damned bands,
The furies, arm'd with fire-brands and with snakes,
Shall plant their hell where Rome so stately stands;
Whil'st furies furious by my fury made,
Do spare the dead to have the living pin'd;
O! with what joy will I that army leade?
" Nought then revenge more calmes a wronged minde, "
I must make this a memorable age,
By this high vengeance which I have conceiv'd:
But what though thousands dye t' appease my rage?
So Caesar perish, let no soule be sav'd.

Chorus .

" We should be loth to grieve the gods,
" Who hold us in a balance still;
" And as they will
" May weigh us up, or downe;
" Those who by folly foster pride,
" And do deride
" The terrour of the thunderers rods,
" In seas of sinne their soules do drowne,
" And others them abhorre as most unjust,
" Who want religion do deserve no trust: "
How dare fraile flesh presume to rise
(Whil'st it deserves heavens wrath to prove)
On th' earth to move,
Lest that it opening straight,
Give death and buriall both at once?
How dare such ones
Look up unto the skies,
For feare to feele the thunderers weight?
" All th' elements their makers will attend,
" As prompt to plague, as men are to offend. "
All must be plagu'd who God displease,
Then whil'st he Bacchus rites did scorne,
Was Pentheus torne;
The Delians high disdaine
Made Niobe (though turn'd a stone)
With teares still mone,
And ( Pallas to appease)
Archne weaves loath'd webbes in vaine:
Heaven hath prepar'd ere ever they begin,
A falle for pride, a punishment for sinne.
Loe, Iuno yet doth still retaine
That indignation once conceiv'd,
For wrong receiv'd
From Paris as we finde;
And for his cause (bent to disgrace
The Trojan race)
Doth hold a high disdaine,
Long layd up in a loftie minde:
" We should abstaine from irritating those
" Whose thoughts (if wrong'd) not till reveng'd repose. "

Thus, thus for Paris fond desire,
Who of his pleasures had no part,
For them must smart:
Such be the fruits of lust;
Can heavenly breasts so long time lodge
A secret grudge?
Like mortals thrall to yre,
Till justice sometime seemes unjust?
" Of all the furies which afflict the soule,
" Lust and revenge are hardest to controull: "
The gods give them but rarely rest,
Who do against their will contend,
And plagues do spend,
That fortunate in nought,
Their sprits (quite parted from repose)
May still expose
The stormy troubled brest
A prey to each tyrannicke thought:
" All selfe-accusing soules no rest can finde;
" What greater torment then a troubled minde? "
Let us adore th' immortall powers,
On whose decree, of all that ends,
The state depends,
That (farre from barbarous broiles)
We of our life this little space
May spend in peace
Free from afflictions showres;
Or at the least from guilty toyles;
" Let us of rest the treasure strive to gaine,
" Without the which nought can be had but paine. "