To thee, O Neptune azure-hair’d! I come
With tidings charged from Ægis-bearing Jove.
He bids thee cease from battle, and retire
Either to heaven, or to the boundless Deep.215
But shouldst thou, disobedient, set at nought
His words, he threatens that himself will haste
To fight against thee; but he bids thee shun
That strife with one superior far to thee,
And elder-born; yet deem’st thou slight, he saith,220
The danger of comparison with Him,
Although the terror of all heaven beside.
Her then the mighty Shaker of the shores
Answer’d indignant. Great as is his power,
Yet he hath spoken proudly, threatening me225
With force, high-born and glorious as himself.
We are three brothers; Saturn is our sire,
And Rhea brought us forth; first, Jove she bore;
Me next; then, Pluto, Sovereign of the shades.
By distribution tripart we received230
Each his peculiar honors; me the lots
Made Ruler of the hoary floods, and there
I dwell for ever. Pluto, for his part,
The regions took of darkness; and the heavens,
The clouds, and boundless æther, fell to Jove.235
The Earth and the Olympian heights alike
Are common to the three. My life and being
I hold not, therefore, at his will, whose best
And safest course, with all his boasted power,
Were to possess in peace his proper third.240
Let him not seek to terrify with force
Me like a dastard; let him rather chide
His own-begotten; with big-sounding words
His sons and daughters govern, who perforce
Obey his voice, and shrink at his commands.245
To whom thus Iris tempest-wing’d replied,
Cœrulean-tress’d Sovereign of the Deep!
Shall I report to Jove, harsh as it is,
Thy speech, or wilt thou soften it? The wise
Are flexible, and on the elder-born250
Erynnis, with her vengeful sisters, waits.[7]
Her answer’d then the Shaker of the shores.
Prudent is thy advice, Iris divine!
Discretion in a messenger is good
At all times. But the cause that fires me thus,255
And with resentment my whole heart and mind
Possesses, is the license that he claims
To vex with provocation rude of speech
Me his compeer, and by decree of Fate
Illustrious as himself; yet, though incensed,260
And with just cause, I will not now persist.
But hear—for it is treasured in my heart
The threat that my lips utter. If he still
Resolve to spare proud Ilium in despite
Of me, of Pallas, Goddess of the spoils,265
Of Juno, Mercury, and the King of fire,
And will not overturn her lofty towers,
Nor grant immortal glory to the Greeks,
Then tell him thus—hostility shall burn,
And wrath between us never to be quench’d.270
So saying, the Shaker of the shores forsook
The Grecian host, and plunged into the deep,
Miss’d by Achaia’s heroes. Then, the cloud-Assembler
God thus to Apollo spake.
Hence, my Apollo! to the Trojan Chief275
Hector; for earth-encircler Neptune, awed
By fear of my displeasure imminent,
Hath sought the sacred Deep. Else, all the Gods
Who compass Saturn in the nether realms,
Had even there our contest heard, I ween,280
And heard it loudly. But that he retreats
Although at first incensed, shunning my wrath,
Is salutary both for him and me,
Whose difference else had not been healed with ease.
Take thou my shaggy Ægis, and with force285
Smiting it, terrify the Chiefs of Greece.
As for illustrious Hector, him I give
To thy peculiar care; fail not to rouse
His fiercest courage, till he push the Greeks
To Hellespont, and to their ships again;290
Thenceforth to yield to their afflicted host
Some pause from toil, shall be my own concern.
He ended, nor Apollo disobey’d
His father’s voice; from the Idæan heights,
Swift as the swiftest of the fowls of air,295
The dove-destroyer falcon, down he flew.
The noble Hector, valiant Priam’s son
He found, not now extended on the plain,
But seated; newly, as from death, awaked,
And conscious of his friends; freely he breathed300
Nor sweated more, by Jove himself revived.
Apollo stood beside him, and began.
Say, Hector, Priam’s son! why sittest here
Feeble and spiritless, and from thy host
Apart? what new disaster hath befall’n?305
To whom with difficulty thus replied
The warlike Chief.—But tell me who art Thou,
Divine inquirer! best of powers above!
Know’st not that dauntless Ajax me his friends
Slaughtering at yonder ships, hath with a stone310
Surceased from fight, smiting me on the breast?
I thought to have beheld, this day, the dead
In Ades, every breath so seem’d my last.
Then answer thus the Archer-God return’d.
Courage this moment! such a helper Jove315
From Ida sends thee at thy side to war
Continual, Phœbus of the golden sword,
Whose guardian aid both thee and lofty Troy
Hath succor’d many a time. Therefore arise!
Instant bid drive thy numerous charioteers320
Their rapid steeds full on the Grecian fleet;
I, marching at their head, will smooth, myself,
The way before them, and will turn again
To flight the heroes of the host of Greece.