So spake fleet-footed Iris, and withdrew; And thus again to Pallas Juno said:—
“Child of the Aegis-bearer! Let us strive With Jove no longer for the sake of men, But let one perish and another live, As chance may rule the hour, and let the God, Communing with his secret mind, mete out To Greeks and Trojans their just destiny.”
She spake, and turned the firm-paced coursers back, The coursers with fair-flowing manes. The Hours Unyoked them, bound them to the ambrosial stalls, And leaned against the shining walls the car; While Juno and Minerva went among The other deities and took their place Upon their golden seats, though sad at heart. Then with his steeds, and in his bright-wheeled car, Came Jove from Ida to the dwelling-place Of gods upon Olympus. There did he Who shakes the islands loose the steeds and bring The chariot to its place, and o’er it spread Its covering of lawn. The Thunderer Seated himself upon his golden throne, The great Olympus trembling as he stepped; While Juno and Minerva sat apart Together, nor saluted him, nor asked Of aught; but he perceived their thoughts and said:—
“Juno and Pallas! Why so sad? Not long Ye toiled in glorious battle to destroy The Trojans, whom ye hold in bitter hate: This strength of mine, and this invincible arm Not all the gods upon the Olympian mount Can turn to flight, while your fair limbs were seized With trembling ere ye entered on the shock And havoc of the war. Now let me say— And well the event would have fulfilled my words— That, smitten with the thunder from my hand, Your chariots never would have brought you back To this Olympus and the abode of gods.”
He spake; while Pallas and the queen of heaven Repined with close-pressed lips, and in their hearts Devised new mischiefs for the Trojan race. Silent Minerva sat, nor dared express as The anger that she bore her father Jove; But Juno could not curb her wrath, and spake:—