She spake: the white-armed Juno gently smiled. And then King Neptune to Apollo said:—
“Why, Phoebus, stand we thus aloof? it ill Becomes us, while the other gods engage In conflict. ’Twere a shame should we return Up to Olympus and the brazen halls Of Jove with no blow struck. Begin, for thou Art younger born, and I, who both in years And knowledge am before thee, must not make The assault. O silly god, and slow of thought! Hast thou indeed forgotten all the wrongs We suffered once in Troy, and only we Of all the gods, when, sent to earth by Jove, We served a twelvemonth for a certain hire The proud Laomedon, by whom our tasks Were set? I built a city and a wall Of broad extent, and beautiful, and strong To stand assault; and, Phoebus, thou didst feed His stamping oxen, with curved horns, among The lawns of woody Ida seamed with glens. But when the welcome hours had brought the day Of our reward, the ruffian king refused The promised wages, and dismissed us both With menaces; to bind thee hand and foot He threatened, and to sell thee as a slave In distant isles, and to cut off the ears Of both of us. So we returned to heaven, Incensed at him who thus withheld the hire He promised. Dost thou favor Troy for this? Wilt thou not rather act with us until These treaty-breakers, with their children all And their chaste matrons, perish utterly?”
Then thus the archer-king, Apollo, spake: “Thou wouldst not deem me wise, should I contend With thee, O Neptune, for the sake of men, Who flourish like the forest-leaves awhile, And feed upon the fruits of earth and then Decay and perish. Let us quit the field, And leave the combat to the warring hosts.”
He spake, and turned, afraid to meet in arms His uncle; but the sylvan Dian heard— His sister, mistress of the beasts that range The wilds—and harshly thus upbraided him:—