“O mighty Archer, dost thou flee and yield The victory to Neptune, who bears off A glory cheaply earned? Why dost thou bear That idle bow, thou coxcomb? I shall hope No more to hear thee in our father’s halls. And in the presence of the immortals, boast That thou wilt fight with Neptune hand to bard.”
The archer-god, Apollo, answered not; But thus the imperial wife of Jupiter, Indignantly and with reproachful words, Rebuked the quivered goddess of the chase:—
“How is it that thou darest, shameless one, Resist me? Thou wilt find it hard, though trained In archery, to match thy strength with mine, Though Jove has made thee among womankind A lioness, and though he gives thee power To slay whomever of thy sex thou wilt; Yet wilt thou find it easier to strike down The mountain beasts of prey, and forest deer, Than combat with thy betters. If thou choose To try the event of battle, then put forth Thy strength against me, and thou shalt be taught How greatly I excel in might of arm.”
Thus Juno spake, and grasped in her left hand Both Dian’s wrists, and, plucking with her right The quiver from her shoulders, beat with it Her ears, and smiled as under her quick blows The sufferer writhed. To earth the arrows fell, And Dian weeping fled. As when a dove, Not fated to be overtaken yet, Flees from a hawk to find her hiding-place, The hollow rock, so Dian fled in tears, And left her arrows. To Latona, then, Heaven’s messenger, the Argus-queller, spake:—
“Far be it from me to contend with thee, Latona; perilous it were to meet A consort of the Cloud-compeller, Jove, In combat. Go and freely make thy boast Among the gods that thou hast vanquished me.”