“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