“Fools are we all, who madly strive with Jove, Or hope, by access to his throne, to sway, By word or deed, his course; from all apart, He all our counsels heeds not, but derides; And boasts o’er all th’ immortal Gods to reign In unapproach’d pre-eminence of pow’r. Prepare then each his sev’ral woe to bear; On Mars e’en now, methinks, the blow hath fall’n; Since in the fight, the man he loves the best, And boasts his son, Ascalaphus, is slain.” She said; and Mars, enrag’d, his brawny thigh Smote with his hands, and thus, lamenting, spoke: “Blame not, ye Gods, who on Olympus dwell, That to the Grecian ships I haste, to avenge My slaughter’d son, though blasted by Heav’n’s fire ’Twere mine ’mid corpses, blood, and dust to lie.” He said, and gave command to Fear and Flight To yoke his car; and donn’d his glitt’ring arms. Then from the throne of Jove had heavier wrath And deeper vengeance on th’ Immortals fall’n, But Pallas, in alarm for all the Gods, Quitting in haste the throne whereon she sat, Sprang past the vestibule, and from his head The helmet lifted, from his arm the shield; Took from his sturdy hand, and rear’d upright, The brazen spear; then with reproachful words She thus assail’d th’ impetuous God of War; “Frantic, and passion-maddened, thou art lost! Hast thou no ears to hear! or are thy mind And sense of rev’rence utterly destroyed? Or heard’st thou not what white-arm’d Juno spoke, Fresh from the presence of Olympian Jove? Wouldst thou, thine evil destiny fulfill’d, By hard constraint, despite thy grief, be driv’n Back to Olympus; and to all the rest Confusion and disaster with thee bring? At once from valiant Trojans and from Greeks His thoughts would be diverted, and his wrath Embroil Olympus, and on all alike, Guilty or not, his anger would be pour’d. Waive then thy vengeance for thy gallant son; Others as brave of heart, as strong of arm, Have fall’n, and yet must fall; and vain th’ attempt To watch at once o’er all the race of men.” Thus saying, to his seat again she forc’d Th’ impetuous Mars: meanwhile, without the house, Juno, by Jove’s command, Apollo call’d, And Iris, messenger from God to God; And thus to both her winged words address’d: “Jove bids you with all speed to Ida haste; And when, arriv’d, before his face ye stand, Whate’er he orders, that observe and do.” Thus Juno spoke, and to her throne return’d; While they to spring-abounding Ida’s heights, Wild nurse of forest beasts, pursued their way; Th’ all-seeing son of Saturn there they found Upon the topmost crag of Gargarus, An incense-breathing cloud around him spread. Before the face of cloud-compelling Jove They stood; well-pleas’d he witness’d their approach In swift obedience to his consort’s words, And thus to Iris first his speech address’d: