She said: the Cloud-compeller answer’d not, But silent sat; then Thetis clasp’d his knees, And hung about him, and her suit renew’d: “Give me thy promise sure, thy gracious nod, Or else refuse (for thou hast none to fear), That I may learn, of all th’ immortal Gods, How far I stand the lowest in thine eyes.” Then, much disturb’d, the Cloud-compeller spoke: “Sad work thou mak’st, in bidding me oppose My will to Juno’s, when her bitter words Assail me; for full oft amid the Gods She taunts me, that I aid the Trojan cause. But thou return, that Juno see thee not, And leave to me the furth’rance of thy suit. Lo, to confirm thy faith, I nod my head; And well among th’ immortal Gods is known The solemn import of that pledge from me: For ne’er my promise shall deceive, or fail, Or be recall’d, if with a nod confirm’d.” He said, and nodded with his shadowy brows; Wav’d on th’ immortal head th’ ambrosial locks, And all Olympus trembled at his nod. They parted thus: from bright Olympus’ heights The Goddess hasted to her ocean-caves, Jove to his palace; at his entrance all Rose from their seats at once; not one presum’d To wait his coming, but advanc’d to meet. Then on his throne he sat; but not unmark’d Of Juno’s eye had been the council held In secret with the silver-footed Queen, The daughter of the aged Ocean-God; And with sharp words she thus addressed her Lord: “Tell me, deceiver, who was she with whom Thou late held’st council? ever ’tis thy way Apart from me to weave thy secret schemes, Nor dost thou freely share with me thy mind.” To whom the Sire of Gods and men replied: “Expect not, Juno, all my mind to know; My wife thou art, yet would such knowledge be Too much for thee; whate’er I deem it fit That thou shouldst know, nor God nor man shall hear Before thee; but what I in secret plan, Seek not to know, nor curiously inquire.” Whom answer’d thus the stag-ey’d Queen of Heav’n: “What words, dread son of Saturn, dost thou speak? Ne’er have I sought, or now, or heretofore, Thy secret thoughts to know; what thou think’st fit To tell, I wait thy gracious will to hear. Yet fear I in my soul thou art beguil’d By wiles of Thetis, silver-footed Queen, The daughter of the aged Ocean-God; For she was with thee early, and embrac’d Thy knees, and has, I think, thy promise sure, Thou wilt avenge Achilles’ cause, and bring Destructive slaughter on the Grecian host.” To whom the Cloud-compeller thus replied: “Presumptuous, to thy busy thoughts thou giv’st Too free a range, and watchest all I do; Yet shalt thou not prevail, but rather thus Be alien’d from my heart—the worse for thee! If this be so, it is my sov’reign will. But now, keep silence, and my words obey, Lest all th’ Immortals fail, if I be wroth, To rescue thee from my resistless hand.”