“Enough. You shall destroy the peace of heaven no longer. Out you shall go.”
“All the better,” said Juno. “I will go back to earth as I did before. And I am not going to be tricked by your false stories a second time.”
“No,” said Jupiter; “the happiness of the earth is as dear to me as the happiness of the sky. You shall neither go to earth nor stay in heaven.”
Taking a long golden chain, he fastened it round her, under her shoulders. Then he sent for one of the Cyclopes’ anvils, and fastened it to her feet. Securing the other end of the chain to the keystone of the rainbow, he let her down, so that Juno hung suspended in mid-air, neither upon the earth nor in the sky, while the anvil at her feet prevented her from swinging and from climbing up again by the chain.
It was a terrible position for Juno. Her anger was still at full heat, and such a degradation, in full sight of gods and men, was a heavy wound to her pride, not to speak of the bodily pain which she had helplessly to bear. But she scorned to beg for pardon. So there she hung, plotting revenge, until night came—till Apollo was asleep under the sea, and Diana was away hunting, and Jupiter, making the most of his long-lost quiet, was dozing upon his throne. Then Juno, who certainly could not sleep with an anvil dragging at her legs and a chain at her shoulders, heard a whisper from above, “Hush! Don’t start—don’t scream; keep quite still, and I’ll soon draw your majesty up again.”
Not that Juno had thought of starting or screaming—she was much too dignified. Besides, the whisper, though rather rough and hoarse, was very pleasant to hear just then. For she recognized the voice of Vulcan, her own son, and she knew that he was going to help her.
So she kept quite quiet as she was bidden, and presently she felt herself, anvil and all, being drawn very slowly upwards, just as you may have seen a heavy sack drawn up by a machine to a warehouse window. It must have been rather painful being dragged up while the anvil dragged her down; but she found herself on firm sky at last, and sighed with relief when Vulcan, whipping out his knife, cut the cord at her feet, and let the anvil go thundering down upon the earth below.
You can fancy what a clatter it made. People started out of their sleep—not that that mattered. But it did matter that Jupiter started out of his. He sprang from his throne, and saw at once what had happened. The next moment, with a tremendous kick, he sent Vulcan flying after the anvil.
Vulcan fell and fell, spinning through space, till he lost his senses, and then—
The anvil had fallen upon the island of Lemnos, and the islanders, rushing out of their houses to see what the crash and clatter could be about, were amazed to see what looked like a confused bundle of legs and arms tumbling and whirling through the air. As it came nearer, it seemed to be a human figure. So the people made a sort of network of their arms, to catch it and prevent its being dashed to pieces.