Iris disobey’d, 205

But down from the Idaean summit stoop’d
To sacred Ilium.  As when snow or hail
Flies drifted by the cloud-dispelling North,
So swiftly, wing’d with readiness of will,
She shot the gulf between, and standing soon 210
At glorious Neptune’s side, him thus address’d. 

    To thee, O Neptune azure-hair’d!  I come

With tidings charged from AEgis-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 me 225
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 received 230
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 aether, 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,

Coerulean-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-born 250
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