Rests not with me; Jove, Destiny, and she
  Who roams the shades, Erynnis, caused the offence. 100
  She fill’d my soul with fury on that day
  In council, when I seized Achilles’ prize. 
  For what could I?  All things obey the Gods. 
  Ate, pernicious Power, daughter of Jove,
  By whom all suffer, challenges from all 105
  Reverence and fear.  Delicate are her feet
  Which scorn the ground, and over human heads
  She glides, injurious to the race of man,
  Of two who strive, at least entangling one. 
  She injured, on a day, dread Jove himself 110
  Most excellent of all in earth or heaven,
  When Juno, although female, him deceived,
  What time Alcmena should have brought to light
  In bulwark’d Thebes the force of Hercules. 
  Then Jove, among the gods glorying, spake. 115
    Hear all! both Gods and Goddesses, attend! 
  That I may make my purpose known.  This day
  Birth-pang-dispensing Ilithya brings
  An hero forth to light, who, sprung from those
  That sprang from me, his empire shall extend 120
  Over all kingdoms bordering on his own. 
    To whom, designing fraud, Juno replied. 
  Thou wilt be found false, and this word of thine
  Shall want performance.  But Olympian Jove! 
  Swear now the inviolable oath, that he 125
  Who shall, this day, fall from between the feet
  Of woman, drawing his descent from thee,
  Shall rule all kingdoms bordering on his own. 
    She said, and Jove, suspecting nought her wiles,
  The great oath swore, to his own grief and wrong. 130
  At once from the Olympian summit flew
  Juno, and to Achaian Argos borne,
  There sought the noble wife[7] of Sthenelus,
  Offspring of Perseus.  Pregnant with a son
  Six months, she now the seventh saw at hand, 135
  But him the Goddess premature produced,
  And check’d Alcmena’s pangs already due. 
  Then joyful to have so prevail’d, she bore
  Herself the tidings to Saturnian Jove. 
    Lord of the candent lightnings!  Sire of all! 140
  I bring thee tidings.  The great prince, ordain’d
  To rule the Argive race, this day is born,
  Eurystheus, son of Sthenelus, the son
  Of Perseus; therefore he derives from thee,
  Nor shall the throne of Argos shame his birth. 145
    She spake; then anguish stung the heart of Jove
  Deeply, and seizing by her glossy locks
  The Goddess Ate, in his wrath he swore
  That never to the starry skies again
  And the Olympian heights he would permit 150
  The universal mischief to return. 
  Then, whirling her around, he cast her down
  To earth.  She, mingling with all works of men,
  Caused many a pang to Jove, who saw his