not thy wrath Rise at those violent deeds of Mars? Thou seest How many of the Achaians he has slain, And what brave men. Nay, thus it should not be. Great grief is mine; but Venus and the god Phoebus, who bears the silver bow, rejoice To see this lawless maniac range the field, And urge him on. O Father Jupiter, Wilt thou be angry with me if I drive Mars, sorely wounded, from the battle-field?”
The cloud-compelling Jupiter replied:— “Thou hast my leave; but send to encounter him Pallas the spoiler, who has many a time Brought grievous troubles on the god of war.”
He spake, and white-armed Juno instantly Obeyed him. With the scourge she lashed the steeds, And not unwillingly they flew between Earth and the starry heaven. As much of space As one who gazes on the dark-blue deep Sees from the headland summit where he sits— Such space the coursers of immortal breed Cleared at each bound they made with sounding hoofs; And when they came to Ilium and its streams, Where Simoïs and Scamander’s channels meet, The white-armed goddess Juno stayed their speed, And loosed them from the yoke, and covered them With darkness. Simoïs ministered, meanwhile, The ambrosial pasturage on which they fed.