Note (return) — BOOK THE TWENTY-FIRST.

So saying, he struck [her] on the fringed ægis, horrible, which not even the thunderbolt of Jove will subdue; on it gore-tainted Mars smote her with the long spear. But she, retiring, seized in her stout hand a stone lying in the plain, black, rugged, and great, which men of former days had set to be the boundary of a field. 684 With this she struck fierce Mars upon the neck, and relaxed his knees. Seven acres he covered, falling; as to his hair he was defiled with dust; and his armour rang round him. But Pallas Minerva laughed, and, boasting over him, addressed to him winged words: