She spake; nor blue-eyed Pallas not complied. 850

Then Juno, Goddess dread, from Saturn sprung,
Her coursers gold-caparison’d prepared
Impatient.  Hebe to the chariot roll’d
The brazen wheels,[18] and joined them to the smooth
Steel axle; twice four spokes divided each 855
Shot from the centre to the verge.  The verge
Was gold by fellies of eternal brass
Guarded, a dazzling show!  The shining naves
Were silver; silver cords and cords of gold
The seat upbore; two crescents[19] blazed in front. 860
The pole was argent all, to which she bound
The golden yoke, and in their place disposed
The breast-bands incorruptible of gold;
But Juno to the yoke, herself, the steeds
Led forth, on fire to reach the dreadful field. 865

    Meantime, Minerva, progeny of Jove,

On the adamantine floor of his abode
Let fall profuse her variegated robe,
Labor of her own hands.  She first put on
The corselet of the cloud-assembler God, 870
Then arm’d her for the field of wo complete. 
She charged her shoulder with the dreadful shield
The shaggy AEgis,[20] border’d thick around
With terror; there was Discord, Prowess there,
There hot Pursuit, and there the feature grim 875
Of Gorgon, dire Deformity, a sign
Oft borne portentous on the arm of Jove. 
Her golden helm, whose concave had sufficed
The legions of an hundred cities, rough
With warlike ornament superb, she fix’d 880
On her immortal head.  Thus arm’d, she rose
Into the flaming chariot, and her spear
Seized ponderous, huge, with which the Goddess sprung
From an Almighty father, levels ranks
Of heroes, against whom her anger burns. 885
Juno with lifted lash urged quick the steeds;
At her approach, spontaneous roar’d the wide-
Unfolding gates of heaven;[21] the heavenly gates
Kept by the watchful Hours, to whom the charge
Of the Olympian summit appertains, 890
And of the boundless ether, back to roll,
And to replace the cloudy barrier dense. 
Spurr’d through the portal flew the rapid steeds;
Apart from all, and seated on the point
Superior of the cloven mount, they found 895
The Thunderer.  Juno the white-arm’d her steeds
There stay’d, and thus the Goddess, ere she pass’d,
Question’d the son of Saturn, Jove supreme. 

    Jove, Father, seest thou, and art not incensed,

These ravages of Mars?  Oh what a field, 900
Drench’d with what Grecian blood!  All rashly spilt,
And in despite of me.  Venus, the while,
Sits, and the Archer of the silver bow
Delighted, and have urged, themselves, to this
The frantic Mars within no bounds confined 905