Now when the Trojans had recross’d the trench And palisades, and in their headlong flight Many had fall’n by Grecian swords, the rest, Routed, and pale with fear, made head awhile Beside their cars; then Jove on Ida’s height At golden-throned Juno’s side awoke; Rising, he saw the Trojans and the Greeks, Those in confusion, while behind them press’d The Greeks, triumphant, Neptune in their midst: He saw too Hector stretch’d upon the plain, His comrades standing round; senseless he lay, Drawing short breath, blood gushing from his mouth; For by no feeble hand the blow was dealt. Pitying, the Sire of Gods and men beheld, And thus, with sternest glance, to Juno spoke: “This, Juno, is thy work! thy wicked wiles Have Hector quell’d, and Trojans driv’n to flight: Nor know I but thyself mayst reap the fruit, By shameful scourging, of thy vile deceit. Hast thou forgotten how in former times I hung thee from on high, and to thy feet Attach’d two pond’rous anvils, and thy hands With golden fetters bound, which none might break? There didst thou hang amid the clouds of Heav’n; Through all Olympus’ breadth the Gods were wroth; Yet dar’d not one approach to set thee free. If any so had ventur’d, him had I Hurl’d from Heav’n’s threshold till to earth he fell, With little left of life. Yet was not quench’d My wrath on godlike Hercules’ account, Whom thou, with Boreas, o’er the wat’ry waste With fell intent didst send; and tempest-toss’d, Cast him ashore on Coos’ fruitful isle. I rescued him from thence, and brought him back, After long toil, to Argos’ grassy plains. This to thy mind I bring, that thou mayst learn To cease thy treach’rous wiles, nor hope to gain By all thy lavish’d blandishments of love, Wherewith thou hast deceived me, and betray’d.” He said; and terror seiz’d the stag-ey’d Queen; Who thus with winged words address’d her Lord: “By Earth I swear, and yon broad Heav’n above, And Stygian stream beneath, the weightiest oath Of solemn pow’r to bind the blessed Gods; By thine own sacred head, our nuptial bed, Whose holy tie I never could forswear; That not by my suggestion and advice Earth-shaking Neptune on the Trojan host, And Hector, pours his wrath, and aids the Greeks; In this he but obeys his own desire, Who looks with pity on the Grecian host Beside their ships o’erborne; and could my words Prevail, my counsel were to shape his course, O cloud-girt King, obedient to thy will.” She said; the Sire of Gods and men, well pleas’d, Her answer heard, and thus with gracious smile: