Then in answer spake to her Zeus, the cloud-gatherer:
“Nay, come now, rouse against him Athene, driver of the spoil, who has ever been wont above others to bring sore pain upon him.”
So spake he, and the goddess, white-armed Hera, failed not to hearken, but touched her horses with the the lash; and nothing loath the pair flew on between earth and starry heaven.
As far as a man seeth with his eyes into the haze of distance as he sitteth on a place of outlook and gazeth over the wine-dark deep, even so far do the loud-neighing horses of the gods spring at a bound. But when they were come to the land of Troy and the two flowing rivers, where the Simoïs and Scamander join their streams,
there the goddess, white-armed Hera, stayed her horses, and loosed them from the car, and shed thick mist about them; and Simoïs made ambrosia to spring up for them to graze upon.
Then the goddesses twain went their way with steps like those of timorous doves, eager to bring aid to the Argive warriors.
And when they were come where the most and the bravest stood close thronging about mighty Diomedes, tamer of horses, in semblance like ravening lions or wild boars, whose is no weakling strength, there the goddess, white-armed Hera,
stood and shouted in the likeness of great-hearted Stentor of the brazen voice, whose voice is as the voice of fifty other men: “Fie, ye Argives, base things of shame fair in semblance only! So long as goodly Achilles was wont to fare into battle, never would the Trojans come forth even before the Dardanian gate;
for of his mighty spear had they dread; but now far from the city they are fighting at the hollow ships.”