To whom the stag-ey’d Juno thus replied: “Three cities are there, dearest to my heart; Argos, and Sparta, and the ample streets Of rich Mycenæ; work on them thy will; Destroy them, if thine anger they incur; I will not interpose, nor hinder thee; Mourn them I shall; reluctant see their fall, But not resist; for sovereign is thy will. Yet should my labours not be fruitless all; For I too am a God; my blood is thine; Worthy of honour, as the eldest born Of deep-designing Saturn, and thy wife; Thine, who o’er all th’ Immortals reign’st supreme. But yield we each to other, I to thee, And thou to me; the other Gods will all By us be rul’d. On Pallas then enjoin That to the battle-field of Greece and Troy She haste, and so contrive that Trojans first May break the treaty, and the Greeks assail.” She said: the Sire of Gods and men complied, And thus with winged words to Pallas spoke: “Go to the battle-field of Greece and Troy In haste, and so contrive that Trojans first May break the treaty, and the Greeks assail.” His words fresh impulse gave to Pallas’ zeal, And from Olympus’ heights in haste she sped; Like to a meteor, that, of grave portent To warring armies or sea-faring men, The son of deep-designing Saturn sends, Bright-flashing, scatt’ring fiery sparks around, The blue-ey’d Goddess darted down to earth, And lighted in the midst; amazement held The Trojan warriors and the well-greav’d Greeks; And one to other look’d and said, “What means This sign? Must fearful battle rage again, Or may we hope for gentle peace from Jove, Who to mankind dispenses peace and war?” Such was the converse Greeks and Trojans held. Pallas meanwhile, amid the Trojan host, Clad in the likeness of Antenor’s son, Laodocus, a spearman stout and brave, Search’d here and there, if haply she might find The godlike Pandarus; Lycaon’s son She found, of noble birth and stalwart form, Standing, encircled by his sturdy band Of bucklered followers from Æsepus’ stream, She stood beside him, and address’d him thus: