And know how badly bed-sports thrive, procur’d by base deceits.” This frighted the offending queen, who with this state excus’d Her kind unkindness: “Witness Earth, and Heav’n so far diffus’d, Thou Flood whose silent gliding waves the under ground doth bear, (Which is the great’st and gravest oath, that any God can swear) Thy sacred head, those secret joys that our young bed gave forth, By which I never rashly swore! that He who shakes the earth Not by my counsel did this wrong to Hector and his host, But, pitying th’ oppresséd Greeks, their fleet being nearly lost, Reliev’d their hard conditión, yet utterly impell’d By his free mind. Which since I see is so offensive held To thy high pleasure, I will now advise him not to tread But where thy tempest-raising feet, O Jupiter, shall lead.” Jove laugh’d to hear her so submiss, and said: “My fair-ey’d love, If still thus thou and I were one, in counsels held above, Neptune would still in word and fact be ours, if not in heart. If then thy tongue and heart agree, from hence to heav’n depart, To call the excellent-in-bows, the Rain-bow, and the Sun, That both may visit both the hosts; the Grecian army one, And that is Iris, let her haste, and make the Sea-god cease T’ assist the Greeks, and to his court retire from war in peace; Let Phœbus, on the Trojan part, inspire with wonted pow’r Great Hector’s spirits, make his thoughts forget the late stern hour, And all his anguish, setting on his whole recover’d man To make good his late grace in fight, and hold in constant wane The Grecian glories, till they fall, in flight before the fleet Of vex’d Achilles. Which extreme will prove the mean to greet Thee with thy wish, for then the eyes of great Æacides (Made witness of the gen’ral ill, that doth so near him prease) Will make his own particular look out, and by degrees Abate his wrath, that, though himself for no extremities Will seem reflected, yet his friend may get of him the grace To help his country in his arms; and he shall make fit place For his full presence with his death, which shall be well fore-run; For I will first renown his life with slaughter of my son, Divine Sarpedon, and his death great Hector’s pow’r shall wreak, Ending his ends. Then, at once, out shall the fury break Of fierce Achilles, and, with that, the flight now felt shall turn, And then last, till in wrathful flames the long-sieg’d Ilion burn. Minerva’s counsel shall become grave mean to this my will, Which no God shall neglect before Achilles take his fill Of slaughter for his slaughter’d friend; ev’n Hector’s slaughter thrown Under his anger; that these facts may then make fully known My vow’s performance, made of late, and, with my bowéd head, Confirm’d to Thetis, when her arms embrac’d my knees, and pray’d That to her city-razing son I would all honour show.” This heard, his charge she seem’d t’ intend, and to Olympus flew. But, as the mind of such a man that hath a great way gone,