The Iliad. Гомер

least the care of Jove?”

      She said; and, sighing, thus the god replies,

      Who rolls the thunder o’er the vaulted skies:

      “What hast thou ask’d? ah, why should Jove engage

      In foreign contests and domestic rage,

      The gods’ complaints, and Juno’s fierce alarms,

      While I, too partial, aid the Trojan arms?

      Go, lest the haughty partner of my sway

      With jealous eyes thy close access survey;

      But part in peace, secure thy prayer is sped:

      Witness the sacred honours of our head,

      The nod that ratifies the will divine,

      The faithful, fix’d, irrevocable sign;

      This seals thy suit, and this fulfils thy vows—”

      He spoke, and awful bends his sable brows,

      Shakes his ambrosial curls, and gives the nod,

      The stamp of fate and sanction of the god:

      High heaven with trembling the dread signal took,

      And all Olympus to the centre shook.

      Swift to the seas profound the goddess flies,

      Jove to his starry mansions in the skies.

      The shining synod of the immortals wait

      The coming god, and from their thrones of state

      Arising silent, wrapp’d in holy fear,

      Before the majesty of heaven appear.

      Trembling they stand, while Jove assumes the throne,

      All, but the god’s imperious queen alone:

      Late had she view’d the silver-footed dame,

      And all her passions kindled into flame.

      “Say, artful manager of heaven (she cries),

      Who now partakes the secrets of the skies?

      Thy Juno knows not the decrees of fate,

      In vain the partner of imperial state.

      What favourite goddess then those cares divides,

      Which Jove in prudence from his consort hides?”

      To this the thunderer: “Seek not thou to find

      The sacred counsels of almighty mind:

      Involved in darkness likes the great decree,

      Nor can the depths of fate be pierced by thee.

      What fits thy knowledge, thou the first shalt know;

      The first of gods above, and men below;

      But thou, nor they, shall search the thoughts that roll

      Deep in the close recesses of my soul.”

      Full on the sire the goddess of the skies

      Roll’d the large orbs of her majestic eyes,

      And thus return’d:—“Austere Saturnius, say,

      From whence this wrath, or who controls thy sway?

      Thy boundless will, for me, remains in force,

      And all thy counsels take the destined course.

      But ’tis for Greece I fear: for late was seen,

      In close consult, the silver-footed queen.

      Jove to his Thetis nothing could deny,

      Nor was the signal vain that shook the sky.

      What fatal favour has the goddess won,

      To grace her fierce, inexorable son?

      Perhaps in Grecian blood to drench the plain,

      And glut his vengeance with my people slain.”

      Then thus the god: “O restless fate of pride,

      That strives to learn what heaven resolves to hide;

      Vain is the search, presumptuous and abhorr’d,

      Anxious to thee, and odious to thy lord.

      Let this suffice: the immutable decree

      No force can shake: what is, that ought to be.

      Goddess, submit; nor dare our will withstand,

      But dread the power of this avenging hand:

      The united strength of all the gods above

      In vain resists the omnipotence of Jove.”

      The thunderer spoke, nor durst the queen reply;

      A reverent horror silenced all the sky.

      The feast disturb’d, with sorrow Vulcan saw

      His mother menaced, and the gods in awe;

      Peace at his heart, and pleasure his design,

      Thus interposed the architect divine:

      “The wretched quarrels of the mortal state

      Are far unworthy, gods! of your debate:

      Let men their days in senseless strife employ,

      We, in eternal peace and constant joy.

      Thou, goddess-mother, with our sire comply,

      Nor break the sacred union of the sky:

      Lest, roused to rage, he shake the bless’d abodes,

      Launch the red lightning, and dethrone the gods.

      If you submit, the thunderer stands appeased;

      The gracious power is willing to be pleased.”

      Thus Vulcan spoke: and rising with a bound,

      The double bowl with sparkling nectar crown’d,

      Which held to Juno in a cheerful way,

      “Goddess (he cried), be patient and obey.

      Dear as you are, if Jove his arm extend,

      I can but grieve, unable to defend

      What god so daring in your aid to move,

      Or lift his hand against the force of Jove?

      Once in your cause I felt his matchless might,

      Hurl’d headlong down from the ethereal height;

      Toss’d all the day in rapid circles round,

      Nor till the sun descended touch’d the ground.

      Breathless I fell, in giddy motion lost;

      The Sinthians raised me on the Lemnian coast;

      He said, and to her hands the goblet heaved,

      Which, with a smile, the white-arm’d queen received

      Then, to the rest he fill’d; and in his turn,

      Each to his lips applied the nectar’d urn,

      Vulcan with awkward grace his office plies,

      And unextinguish’d laughter shakes the skies.

      Thus the blest gods the genial day prolong,

      In feasts ambrosial, and celestial song.

      Apollo tuned the lyre; the Muses round

      With voice alternate aid the silver sound.

      Meantime the radiant sun to mortal sight

      Descending swift, roll’d down the rapid light: