So boasted he; but queenly Juno’s ire Was kindled, and she shuddered on her throne Till great Olympus trembled. Thus she spake To Neptune, mighty ruler of the deep:—
“Earth-shaker! Thou who rulest far and wide! Is there no pity for the perishing Greeks Within that breast of thine? They bring to thee At Helicè and Aegae costly gifts And many, wherefore thy desire should be That they may win the victory. If the gods Who favor the Achaians should combine To drive the Trojans back, and hold in check High-thundering Jupiter, the God would sit In sullen grief on Ida’s top alone.”
Earth-shaking Neptune answered in disdain:— “O Juno, rash in speech! What words are these? Think not that I can wish to join the gods In conflict with the monarch Jupiter, The son of Saturn, mightier than we all.”
So held they colloquy. Meanwhile the space Betwixt the galleys and the trench and wall Was crowded close with steeds and shielded men; For Hector, son of Priam, terrible As Mars the lightning-footed, drave them on Before him. Jove decreed him such renown. And now would he have given that noble fleet To the consuming flame, if Juno, queen Of heaven, had not beheld, and moved the heart Of Agamemnon to exhort the Greeks That they should turn and combat. With quick steps He passed beside the fleet, among the tents, Bearing in his strong hand his purple robe, And climbed the huge black galley which had brought Ulysses to the war—for in the midst It lay, and thence the king might send his voice To either side, as far as to the tents Of Ajax and Achilles, who had moored Their galleys at the different extremes Of the long camp, confiding in their might Of arm and their own valor. Thence he called, With loud, clear utterance, to the Achaian host:—
“O Greeks! Shame on ye! Cravens who excel In form alone! Where now are all the boasts Of your invincible valor—the vain words Ye uttered