Now, when twelve days compleat had run their

race,

The Gods bethought them of the cares belonging to their place.

Jove at their head ascending from the sea,
A fhoal of puny Pow'rs attend his way.
Then Thetis, not unmindful of her son,
Emerging from the deep, to beg her boon,
Purfu'd their track; and waken'd from his reft,
Before the fovereign stood a morning guest.
Him in the circle, but apart, fhe found:
The reft at awful diftance ftood around.

She bow'd, and ere fhe durft her fute begin,
One hand embrac'd his knees, one prop'd his

chin.

Then thus. If I, celeftial fire, in ought

Have ferv'd thy will, or gratify'd thy thought,
One glimpse of glory to my iffue give;
Grac'd for the little time he has to live.
Dishonour'd by the king of men he stands:
His rightful prize is ravish'd from his hands.
But thou, O father, in my fon's defence,
Affume thy pow'r, affert thy providence.
Let Troy prevail, till Greece th' affront has paid
With doubled honours; and redeem'd his aid.

She ceas'd, but the confid'ring God was

mute:

Till fhe, refolv'd to win, renew'd her fute:

Nor loos'd her hold, but forc'd him to reply,
Or grant me my petition, or deny :
Jove cannot fear then tell me to my face

That I, of all the Gods, am least in

grace.

This I can bear. The Cloud-compeller mourn'd, And fighing first, this anfwer he return'd.

Know'st thou what clamors will disturb my
reign,

What my stunn'd ears from Juno must sustain ?
In council the gives licence to her tongue,

Loquacious, brawling, ever in the

wrong. And now she will my partial pow'r upbraid,

If, alienate from Greece, I give the Trojans aid.
But thou depart, and fhun her jealous fight,
The care be mine, to do Pelides right.
Go then, and on the faith of Jove rely:
When nodding to thy fute, he bows the sky.
This ratifies th' irrevocable doom:

The fign ordain'd, that what I will thall come:
The stamp of heav'n, and feal of fate. He faid,
And shook the facred honours of his head.
With terror trembled heav'n's fubfiding hill:
And from his fhaken curls ambrofial dews diftil.

The Goddess goes exulting from his fight,

And feeks the feas profound; and leaves the realms of light.

He moves into his hall: the Pow'rs resort, Each from his houfe to fill the fovereign's court. Nor waiting fummons, nor expecting stood; But met with reverence, and receiv'd the God. He mounts the throne; and Juno took her place: But fullen difcontent fate low'ring on her face. With jealous eyes, at diftance fhe had feen, Whifp'ring with Jove, the filver-footed Queen ; Then, impotent of tongue (her filence broke) Thus turbulent in rattling tone she spoke.

Author of ills, and clofe contriver Jove, Which of thy dames, what prostitute of love, Has held thy ear fo long, and begg'd so hard, For fome old fervice done, fome new reward? Apart you talk'd, for that's your fpecial care, The confort never must the council fhare. One gracious word is for a wife too much: Such is a marriage-vow, and Jove's own faith is fuch.

Then thus the Sire of Gods, and men below, What I have hidden, hope not thou to know. Ev'n Goddeffes are women: and no wife

Has pow'r to regulate her husband's life:

Counsel she may; and I will give thy ear

18 The knowledge first, of what is fit to hear. What I tranfact with others, or alone,

Beware to learn; nor prefs too near the throne.
To whom the Goddefs with the charming

eyes,

What haft thou faid, O tyrant of the skies!
When did I fearch the fecrets of thy reign,
Tho privileg'd to know, but privileg'd in vain?
But well thou do'ft, to hide from common fight
Thy close intrigues, too bad to bear the light.
Nor doubt I, but the filver-footed dame,
Tripping from fea, on such an errand came,
To grace her iffue, at the Grecians coft,
And for one peevish man destroy an hoft.

To whom the Thund'rer made this ftern

reply;

My houshold curfe, my lawful plague, the spy
Of Jove's defigns, his other squinting eye;
Why this vain prying, and for what avail?
Jove will be mafter ftill, and Juno fail.
Should thy fufpicious thoughts divine aright,
Thou but becom'ft more odious to my fight,
For this attempt: uneafy life to me,

Still watch'd, and importun'd, but worse for
thee.

Curb that impetuous tongue, before too late
The Gods behold, and tremble at thy fate.
Pitying, but daring not, in thy defence,
To lift a hand against Omnipotence.

This heard, th' imperious Queen fate mute with fear:

Nor further durft incense the gloomy Thunderer. Silence was in the court at this rebuke:

Nor could the Gods abafh'd, sustain their sov'reign's look.

The limping Smith obferv'd the sadden'd feast, And hopping here and there, (himself a jest) Put in his word, that neither might offend; To Jove obfequious, yet his mother's friend. What end in heav'n will be of civil war, If Gods of pleasure will for mortals jar? Such difcord but difturbs our jovial feast; One grain of bad, embitters all the best. Mother, tho wise yourself, my counsel weigh; 'Tis much unfafe my fire to disobey.

Not only you provoke him to your cost,

But mirth is marr'd, and the good chear is loft.
Tempt not his heavy hand; for he has pow'r
To throw you headlong, from his heav'nly tow'r.
But one fubmiffive word, which you let fall,
Will make him in good humour with us all.