“O evil minded Juno, full of guile! Thy arts have made the noble Hector leave The combat, and have forced his troops to flee. I know not whether’t were not well that thou Shouldst taste the fruit of thy pernicious wiles, Chastised by me with stripes. Dost thou forget When thou didst swing suspended, and I tied Two anvils to thy feet, and bound a chain Of gold that none could break around thy wrists? Then didst thou hang in air amid the clouds, And all the gods of high Olympus saw With pity. They stood near, but none of them Were able to release thee. Whoso came Within my reach I seized, and hurled him o’er Heaven’s threshold, and he fell upon the earth Scarce breathing. Yet the passion of my wrath, Caused by the wrongs of godlike Hercules, Was not to be so calmed; for craftily Hadst thou called up the violent northern blast, To chase him far across the barren deep, And drive him from his course to populous Cos. I rescued him at length, and brought him back To Argos famed for steeds, though after long And many hardships. I remind thee now