Then sweet Sleep made answer to her, saying: “Hera, queenly goddess, daughter of great Cronos, another of the gods, that are for ever, might I lightly lull to sleep, aye, were it even the streams of the river
Oceanus, from whom they all are sprung; but to Zeus, son of Cronos, will I not draw nigh, neither lull him to slumber, unless of himself he bid me. For ere now in another matter did a behest of thine teach me a lesson,
on the day when the glorious son1
of Zeus, high of heart, sailed forth from Ilios, when he had laid waste the city of the Trojans. I, verily, beguiled the mind of Zeus, that beareth the aegis, being shed in sweetness round about him, and thou didst devise evil in thy heart against his son, when thou hadst roused the blasts of cruel winds over the face of the deep, and thereafter didst bear him away unto well-peopled Cos, far from all his kinsfolk. But Zeus, when he awakened, was wroth, and flung the gods hither and thither about his palace, and me above all he sought, and would have hurled me from heaven into the deep to be no more seen, had Night not saved me—Night that bends to her sway both gods and men.
To her I came in my flight, and besought her, and Zeus refrained him, albeit he was wroth, for he had awe lest he do aught displeasing to swift Night. And now again thou biddest me fulfill this other task, that may nowise be done.”
To him then spake again ox-eyed, queenly Hera: “Sleep, wherefore ponderest thou of these things in thine heart?
Deemest thou that Zeus, whose voice is borne afar, will aid the Trojans, even as he waxed wroth for the sake of Heracles, his own son? Nay, come, I will give thee one of the youthful Graces to wed to be called thy wife, even Pasithea, for whom thou ever longest all thy days.”