The Cloud-compeller, Jove, replied, and frowned: “Come not to me, thou changeling, to complain. Of all the gods upon the Olympian mount I like thee least, who ever dost delight In broils and wars and battles. Thou art like Thy mother Juno, headstrong and perverse. Her I can scarcely rule by strict commands, And what thou sufferest now, I deem, is due To her bad counsels. Yet ’tis not my will That thou shouldst suffer longer, who dost share My lineage, whom thy mother bore to me. But wert thou born, destroyer as thou art, To any other god, thou hadst long since Lain lower than the sons of Uranus.”