Then thus replied the Father of the gods And mortals: “Juno, do not think to know All my designs, for thou wilt find the task Too hard for thee, although thou be my spouse. What fitting is to be revealed, no one Of all the immortals or of men shall know Sooner than thou; but when I form designs Apart from all the gods, presume thou not To question me or pry into my plans.”
Juno, the large-eyed and august, rejoined:— “What words, stern son of Saturn, hast thou said! It never was my wont to question thee Or pry into thy plans, and thou art left To form them as thou wilt; yet now I fear The silver-footed Thetis has contrived— That daughter of the Ancient of the Deep— To o’erpersuade thee, for, at early prime, She sat before thee and embraced thy knees; And thou hast promised her, I cannot doubt, To give Achilles honor and to cause Myriads of Greeks to perish by their fleet.”
Then Jove, the cloud-compeller, spake again:— “Harsh-tongued! thou ever dost suspect me thus, Nor can I act unwatched; and yet all this Profits thee nothing, for it only serves To breed dislike, and is the worse for thee. But were it as thou deemest, ’tis enough That such has been my pleasure. Sit thou down In silence, and obey, lest all the gods Upon Olympus, when I come and lay These potent hands on thee, protect thee not.”
He spake, and Juno, large-eyed and august, O’erawed, and curbing her high spirit, sat In silence; meanwhile all the gods of heaven Within the halls of Jove were inly grieved. But Vulcan, the renowned artificer, Sought to console his mother in her grief— The white-armed Juno—and thus interposed:—