Aphrodite now approached her fainting son and her merciful arms bore him off the field. “It must be a goddess who has rescued him,” said Diomedes to himself. “But it can be none other than Aphrodite, who appears so unwarlike. Good, I will overtake her and attain undying fame.” He hastened after the goddess, swung his spear, and wounded her in the wrist, so that her clear blood stained the earth. The goddess screamed and let the warrior slip from her arms, but he was again rescued by Phœbus Apollo, who covered him with a dark cloud.
Diomedes still pursued the goddess with loud cries. “Retire, daughter of Jupiter, and leave the battlefield to men. It is bad enough that thou causest women to bring such misery upon the nations. Woe to thee shouldst thou come near me in the fight!” The goddess was terrified and fled as fast as she could. Iris came to meet her and conducted her to the edge of the battlefield, where Mars, the god of war, sat gloating over his work. A cloud surrounded him and concealed him from mortal eyes. “Dear brother,” said Aphrodite, “lend me thy horses that I may quickly reach Olympus. Look! A mortal has wounded me.” Iris took the reins and the horses flew swiftly away through the air.
Meanwhile Diomedes was still on the field seeking Æneas, and not until he heard Apollo’s threatening voice, “Take heed, son of Tydeus, and give way, tremble and do not strive with the gods,” did he desist and remember Athena’s warning. Apollo carried Aphrodite’s son to his sacred temple on the heights of Pergamus. There he healed and strengthened him, and the hero soon reappeared among his followers, who were amazed at the miracle. He at once plunged into the fight and slew many brave youths among the Achaians.
Apollo had meanwhile complained to Mars of the defeat of the Trojans and of Diomedes’ insolence in daring to attack the gods. The god of war, who inclined first to one side, then to the other, was persuaded to take part in the battle himself, and this time to support the Trojans. Concealed in a cloud, he strode first before Hector, then before another Trojan, and wherever he went the aim never failed. Diomedes, however, had been endowed by his friend Athena with the power to recognize the gods when they appeared amongst men, so that he was terrified, as he was about to throw himself upon Hector, to see the war god striding before him. He started back, and hastening toward the other Greek warriors cried: “Take care, friends, give way and do not contend with the gods! For Hector hath ever a god at his side. Mars is with him now in the guise of a mortal.” Diomedes, in awe of Mars, retired from the field, although the battle still raged. Hector slew two of the bravest Greek warriors and captured their horses. Ajax of Salamis looked grimly on, but did not dare attack him; he preferred to pursue a weaker man, Amphius of Pæsus.
The battle had begun almost under the walls of Troy, but the Greeks had been forced back nearly to the ships, and they began to lose courage. Juno and Athena now determined to protect their favorites; for had they not promised Menelaus to avenge his wrongs? They signed Hebe to hitch the horses to the splendid chariot. Athena donned her breastplate, put on her golden helmet, and took up her mighty lance and the shield called ægis. It was decorated with golden tassels and in the midst was the head of Medusa, the mere sight of which turned men to stone. Thus armed, she mounted the shining chariot, and Juno, standing beside her, guided the steeds. The gates of heaven, guarded by the Horæ, opened of themselves and the goddesses stormed the heights of Olympus, where the father of the gods was sitting in solitude looking down upon the confusion. “Art thou not angered, Father Jupiter,” spake Juno, “that Mars is destroying the great and noble Achaian people? Wilt thou object if I force him from the field?”
Jupiter answered: “To work! Set Pallas Athena upon him. She will soon discomfit him.”
Overjoyed at the permission, Juno turned the horses and in an instant they had descended to the field before Troy. They paused where the Simois flows into the Scamander and enveloped chariot and steeds in a thick cloud. Then they hastened to the side of Tydeus’ son, and in Stentor’s shape and with his brazen voice Juno cried out: “Shame upon ye, people of Argos, so glorious to look upon and so faint-hearted. When Achilles was among you, the Trojans scarce ventured from the gates, but now that the only man among you is gone, they push you back to the ships.”
Athena approached Diomedes where he stood beside his chariot, cooling the wound which Pandarus had inflicted. He was just beginning to feel the pain of it and could scarcely move his arm. He loosened the leather straps and pressed out the blood. “Shame upon you, son of Tydeus,” said the goddess reproachfully. “Thou art not as thy noble father. He was more eager for the fray and slew countless men of Cadmus’ race before Thebes. Thou knowest that I never leave thy side. Speak, how can fear have dominion over thee?”
“Goddess,” answered the hero, “for I recognize thy voice, neither sloth nor fear restrain me, but I remember thy command. I plunged into the thick of the fight and piled corpse on corpse, until I saw Mars, the terrible, who fights in the front ranks of the Trojans. I gave way before him and warned the others; for who shall fight against the gods?”
The goddess answered: “Diomedes, beloved of my soul, henceforth fear neither Mars nor any of the immortals, for I am beside thee. Turn thy prancing horses upon Mars and wound him boldly at close range, the unstable one.”